


Sanctuary

by Justine_Harker



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gothic, M/M, Punk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:31:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 75,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2890379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justine_Harker/pseuds/Justine_Harker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When work is too boring and it's too lonely to stay home one more Friday night, Ciel heads out to see what sort of trouble this new city has to offer. **This work has a prequel entitled House of Sanctuary**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plague

It was Friday afternoon, just past 3 pm and I was almost positive that I was about to die from boredom. I looked at the little clock in the bottom corner of my computer screen and then at the analog clock on the wall. Both mocked me with a lazy 3:08.

I pushed away from my desk and took my third bathroom break since lunch, hoping to kill maybe ten minutes if I walked slowly.

“Hey, temp. How’s it going?” inquired a cheerful girl with short fire engine red hair and black rimmed glasses. I had noticed her at the coffee machine a few times. Noticed her dark clothing and occasional heavy black eyeliner and wondered if maybe she wasn’t entirely boring.

“Oh, hi,” I said. Master of small talk.

“Not the most fun job, is it? I did it for a whole summer before a position opened up on the customer service floor. It’s still awful, but it pays better.” She smiled.

“Yeah, well, I’m fast at data entry so I’m hoping to be outta here in another week.” This temp assignment was supposed to be two weeks long but I was already finishing week number three with no end in sight. Not that I minded the regular pay check, but I simply hated office work.

“I noticed the _Joy Division_ button on your bag,” she said shyly. “Are you into that kind of music?”

“Yeah, they’re alright,” I said, lying. I fucking loved _Joy Division_.

“I thought you seemed cool. Here,” she handed me a small printed flyer that was folded and stuffed in her pocket. “This is tonight. You’d probably like it.” She turned to go, and then stopped. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Ciel.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said with her best fake office professional voice and shook my hand. “I’m Mey-Rin.”

When I got back to my desk I unfolded the flyer and looked it over. Amidst the comic book image of bats emerging from a cave was an advertisement:

_Friday Night is Plague Night at Sanctuary!_

_DJ’s Rivethead Rick and Miss Anne Thrope_

_Spooky dress encouraged. 21 plus, $5 cover._

So, this town did have a goth scene. I had wondered since I moved here three months ago if there was anything worth doing at night. I pondered the red-haired girl from customer service and wondered what the crowd would be like. If it was totally awful I could always bail. I was so over staying home every night and a guy can only watch so many Netflix movies and jerk off so many times before totally hating himself. At the very least I could grab a drink and chat with Mey-Rin some more. It would be nice to have a friend at work even if it was only for another week.

When the clock finally acquiesced and told me it was five, I flew out of my cubical fast enough to leave my chair spinning. I slung my messenger bag across my chest and headed home. I stopped in the smoke shop to pick up a pack of clove cigarettes and a cheap bottle of wine and then stomped up the stairs to my apartment.

I kicked off my office shoes and dumped my bag on the floor by the door and punched the buttons on my stereo until it started playing the gritty industrial rhythm of the _Skinny Puppy_ cd that I’d left in there. I closed my one good eye for a second and just enjoyed the feeling of being free from work for the next two days. Freedom was so good, but having something to do was even better.

I took a sip straight from the wine bottle as I peered into my closet and pondered what to wear. It had been so long since I had gone out that I almost forgot how to wear anything but my stupid work clothes. A few hours later I had half of my closet spread out on my bed and discarded onto the floor. I finally settled on a pair of almost painfully tight black pants, a favorite torn and lovingly abused fishnet shirt and an equally tight and ragged  _Skinny Puppy_ t-shirt. Inspired by the repeated utterance that ‘Jesus wants to be ugli’ I pulled the shirt over my head and hooked my thumbs into the fishnet. I felt comfortable, like I was coming home again and sighed into the wine bottle. I really hoped this evening wouldn’t be disappointing.

A bullet belt slung low on my slim hips and a bit of stuff in my hair to tussle the office blandness out of it and I was about ready. I crawled out on to the fire escape with my wine and lit up a clove. I savored the first spicy-sweet drag. I didn’t let myself smoke very often, but when I did I enjoyed it thoroughly. The scent of the cigarette was so entwined with happier times that it instantly took me back.

God, I needed to get laid.

I made myself scarf down a peanut butter sandwich even though I wasn’t hungry. I knew that I’d be drinking and I didn’t need to get shitfaced in front of my coworker just because my stomach was completely empty. I reverently reached into the back of my closet to find my 20-hole Doc Martin boots and started the process of lacing them up. The feeling of my thin legs being lovingly laced into the stiff leather made me smile.

I took one last look at myself before heading out the door. My face was pale and my hair was black naturally without any dye and long enough that it fell over my face when it wasn’t tucked behind my ears. My one good eye was dark blue, the other was essentially gone. I wore a simple black patch and usually let my hair cover it up so it’s less noticeable. Surprisingly it worked well enough that I wasn’t asked too often about what had happened, though I still got the occasional idiot who assumed it was a fashion statement. Hopefully this wreck that I saw in the mirror could still net a man of some sort.

If the scene wasn’t too abysmal.

I tried not to get my hopes up, but I really couldn’t help but feel excited as I walked through the dark city streets to the bar. I looked at the flyer again and turned down a one-way side street.

At first glance I felt my heart sink. The bold neon letters spelling out SANCTUARY ran along the side of the building, but the first door I encountered read _Sports Bar_. I kept walking. No way in hell am I going in. But another few steps and I saw a collection of kids dressed in black and smoking cigarettes leaning against the brick side of the building. Another entrance. I cautiously approached and started to see flyers similar to the one in my pocket advertising bands and other DJ nights along the wall. I strode past the smokers, standing tall like I owned the street and knew where the fuck I was going.

I followed a girl with platform boots and a short black vinyl skirt across the lobby and down a wide flight of stairs. Once I reached the bottom step I could hear the thrum of industrial music and see a dark room beyond filled with people. An adorable blond girl with a sweet face and purple lipstick was perched on a stool behind a podium at the entrance to the dance floor.

“Hi,” she smiled, shouting a bit to be heard over the music. “I need to see your ID and the cover is five bucks tonight.”

I handed her my driver’s license and the cash and extended my right hand to be stamped. The stamp was a black cat.

“You’re new here?” she asked.

“Yeah, new in town.”

“Well, enjoy. It’s a fun crowd. Lots of regulars.”

“Great, thank you.” I felt her eyes on my backside as I walked past her and was glad I wore the extra tight pants.  It wasn’t my first choice, but I might be desperate enough to follow a girl home.

I ventured into the darkness, blinking as my eye adjusted, skirting past the dance floor where a handful of early enthusiasts were gyrating to the trance-like beats, and found my way to the bar. First things first.

The bartender- there was only the one on duty- was jacked. His arms were testing the tensile strength of the tight black t-shirt he wore. He was a bit short for my taste but a nice enough face. Nothing to write in my diary about, but I put on my best flirting face as I put in my drink request of a vodka and cranberry.

“You sure you don’t want the special?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I glanced at the special board, a messily scribbled selection on a dry erase board. The first entry was ‘sex with the bartender.’ I couldn’t say no to that.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have sex with the bartender,” I amended.

“Always an excellent choice,” he said and spun around to make the drink. Three dollars, a devastating smile and a two dollar tip later, and I took my sweet drink and ventured into the crowd to see what I had gotten myself into.

I found a vantage point set back from the dance floor with my back against a wall so I could look around while I sipped my drink. I took out the plastic stirrer and took a tentative sip. It was sweet and strong and would certainly do the job. More people began to come down the stairs and flow into the club, and the crowd began to get a little more interesting. There was a good mix of boys and girls, lots of pretty clothes to look at. The music was generic industrial, but the energy was good and I found myself bouncing on the balls of my feet while I looked around until someone crashed into my arm, knocking a splash of booze onto my shirt.

“Um, excuse you!” I shouted over the music.

“Hey, temp!” said the redhead from work, smiling and obviously feeling good. She had on a short ruffled black skirt and red corset squishing her small boobs up toward her face and making her waist look invitingly small. She still had on the thick glasses but she had spiked up her hair a bit and wore heavy eye liner.

“Oh, hi!” said the master of small talk.

“You look great! Did you just get here?” she asked.

“Thanks, you too! Yeah, just came in a few minutes ago.”

“Did you have sex with the bartender?” She gestured to the drink, a stupid grin on her face.

“I tried to.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s Mickey. He’s a fresh piece of ass. He does MMA fighting.” She fanned herself as though she were sweltering and flustered.

“Seems like a fairly decent crowd,” I said gesturing out to the dance floor.

“Yeah, it’s not bad for a small city. We’re here usually every Friday, though sometimes when we book a band we get to use the upstairs club area.”

“So you help to put this on?”

“Yeah, babe. I work with Jesse to book the DJs and to get the advertising out.” She gestured to the blond girl at the entrance who stamped my hand. “It’s a labor of love, but we have fun!”

“That’s awesome. I didn’t know there was a goth scene here.”

“You’re new in town, huh?”

“Yeah, I moved here again three months ago from Montreal.”

“Oooo…tres bien!” she shoved me again and laughed.

“Watch it! I paid for this drink you know.”

“So you got a girlfriend?” she asked.

“No, do you?”

“Ha! Bitch. No, I do not. Though I have my sights on that waify little blond boy over there.” She pointed to a thin guy with blond hair that reached his jaw. He had on a _Bauhaus_ t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to show his skinny arms and a pair of tight black jeans full of holes. When he turned around I could see that he had a sweet looking face.

“He’s cute,” I said.

“Well, hands off. I saw him first,” she shoved me again but I was ready this time and had my drink in the other hand.

“Not my type anyway.” I glanced around the room again hoping that someone would stand out from the crowd with a spotlight just for me. No such luck. I took another swallow of my drink and chewed on an ice cube thoughtfully.

“What is your type, hmm?” she asked with a conspiratorial look.

“I’ll know it when I see him, I suppose. It’s been far too long.”

“Woof, that’s rough. How long?”

I sighed, feeling the depression set in.  “One year, seven months and….thirteen…no ...fourteen days.”

She laughed. “Two months for me, and I thought that was rough. I’m gonna do my best to break the dry spell tonight. That reminds me, I need to put my request in.” She skipped away from me toward the DJ both, hoping up the three steps with drunken grace and started chatting with the DJ.

At the end of the next song, the instantly recognizable hissing heartbeat rhythm of the  _Nine Inch Nails_ song “Closer” blasted through the room. I laughed as I saw Mey-Rin skip over toward the skinny blond boy. Real fucking subtle, girl. After some serious blushing and smiling on his part, she managed to pull him out onto the dance floor and even got him to move a little bit through what I could only guess was her trademarked shoving method. At least he didn’t have a drink in his hand.

I was smiling, sipping my drink, and bouncing along a little to the music when a stupidly tall guy came down the stairs and ducked into the room. I almost dropped my drink when I saw his face. He was pale with dark hair, long and touching his sharp cheekbones in the front, but buzzed short in the back. He had on a pair of black leather pants that might have actually been sprayed on and a plain black, fitted t-shirt, tucked in to show off the studded belt that hung off his hips. He moved gracefully through the crowd, skirting the dance floor, right past me, arriving finally at the bar. I saw Mickey give him a bright smile and then handed him a beer. The man’s arms were long enough that he could reach over the heads of the kids still waiting for their drinks.

Suddenly I felt like the song was playing just for me.


	2. Rebel Without a Clove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back for more sex?

I sucked down the rest of my drink and weaved my way through the crowd to the bar.  I was just about there as the giant was turning to head back into the crowd. His broad shoulders turned sideways as he maneuvered with this drink right past me again and finally stopped when he seemed to run into a group of friends. I did a quick assessment. Two slutty looking girls trussed up in cheap corsets and too much makeup, obviously ready to hang off his biceps if he would let them, and then a scruffy looking dude, slightly older with a cigarette tucked behind his ear and a pair of goggles around his neck. He was wearing a ratty t-shirt over a pair of camo combat pants.  They all seemed to know each other and were talking animatedly as the club bounced around them.

“Back for more sex?” Mickey the bartender startled me out of my stalking.

“Yes, please,” I said giving him my best smile.

“They always come back for seconds,” he said, obviously amusing himself.

Second drink of the night in hand, I made my way back to my former post against the wall where I could see the dance floor and the little group containing the new tall guy. I found Mey-Rin in the crowd, her red hair catching in the strobe light. She was still tormenting the blond boy and seemed to have snared him pretty well. I sent her telepathic messages to come back over to talk to me, but they were fruitless.

I started to feel the monotony of the dance music and glanced over to look at the DJ. He was a young looking kid, combat boots and pants with too many pockets and straps. When I looked back at my drink I noticed I wasn’t alone. The older guy with the scruffy face and the camo pants had sidled over to me.

“They never play old school music,” he said. “It’s always this techno-dance shit.” His voice was as rough as he looked with just the hint of a Brooklyn accent that seemed to work well with his casual demeanor.

“I was just noticing that,” I said.

“Back in New York this shit wouldn’t fly. Only the raver kids would show up. I’m Baldroy, by the way. Most people call me Bard.” He held out his hand to shake.

“Ciel,” I said.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he said, looking me over.

“Nope, first time.”

“Well, we’ll try to be gentle with you then,” he laughed. “I was supposed to DJ tonight, but I had to work late. I’ll try to spin you some good stuff next week.”

Mey-Rin bounced back toward me, chasing Bard away with an excited shriek. He returned to his former group and I couldn’t help but notice a few exchanged words between him and tall guy.

“So, I’m heading out,” Mey-Rin announced. “I just wanted to say bye and thank you for coming out.”

“Already?” I asked, feeling a little disappointed.

She nodded frantically. “Yup, I got me a man. Snared him right in my fishnets, I did!” She laughed and raised a hand and awaited a high five, which I obliged.

“Well, you had best go then before he wiggles away. See you Monday,” I said. She waved and went to claim her prize.

I managed to finish my drink and stick out a few more songs while people watching, but quickly lost my enthusiasm when tall guy left up the stairs and didn’t return. I glanced at my phone, the screen blinding me in the near darkness of the basement room, and saw that it was after 12. It wouldn’t be totally lame for me to head home.

The quiet of the night outside and the fresh air felt amazing once I made it through the door to the sidewalk. I rounded the corner, past the stupid sports bar entrance and fished out a clove cigarette for my walk home. I felt pleasantly buzzed and tired as I thought back about the evening, wondering if I should go back next weekend. A voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Is that a clove I smell?”

I turned to see the tall guy leaning against the side of a brick building beside me, all _Rebel Without a Cause,_ with a cigarette hanging on his lip. He regarded me with a tilt of his head and asked, “Can I bum one?” flicking his cigarette to the ground. It was the single hottest thing I had ever seen. I felt my heart try to crawl up my throat.

His face was pale in the harsh glow of the street lights but it was still as handsome as I thought it was when I saw him in the dim light of the club. All too often that was not the case.

“Y…yeah man, of course,” I hated myself for feeling flustered, but dug into my pocket and offered him the slender black cigarette and flicked my lighter so he could lean in to light it. He closed his eyes and moaned when he took the first drag and I could feel heat rush to my face and had to look away. Damn he was hot.

“Thanks. God, nothing else tastes like that,” he smiled looking at the cigarette again before turning his gaze to mine. I noticed his eyes were the most unusual reddish brown when they locked to mine for a second before he pushed off the wall and turned to walk back in the direction for the bar.

My brain was straining to think of something, anything, to say when he called over his shoulder, “See you next week?”

“Maybe,” I said, lying through my stupid teeth.

_‘Yeah, nothing else tastes like that except for my mouth. I’d be happy to demonstrate.’_   Fuck. I turned back again just in time to see his spectacular ass encased in leather before he vanished down the side street. I should probably start thinking about what to wear next week. 


	3. The Lady is a Tramp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one eye of yours was wandering on his friend...

Monday morning when I got to my desk at the temp job I sent Mey-Rin a cryptically short email message of “Hey, how’s stuff?”

_"You dope. Here’s my number, text me.”_

I added the digits to my phone and sent a message. “How was blond boy?”

_“Ha! Pretty great from what I can remember. His name is Finn.”_

“Tramp.”

_“Bitch. You going this week?”_

“Maybe.”

_“Yes you are. You’re hooked.”_

“Nothing else to do, I guess.”

_“Whatever. You’re just jealous that I got some.”_

“There were like no guys there.”

_“Untrue! I saw you eye-fucking that tall guy.”_

“…”

_“Bard told me.”_

“Told you what?”

_“Nothing.”_

“Fuck you. What did he say?”

_“That one eye of yours was wandering on his friend.”_

“So?”

_“So nothing. He was totally hot, so don’t lie and say there were no guys there.”_

“Whatever. “ I waited for a response to my moody text but nothing came. I hoped she was just busy working and not actually mad at me for being bitchy. She knew things about this guy that I needed to know. Give me your secret gothy info, lady. I caved and sent her another message of peace.

“What are you doing for lunch?” My phone buzzed immediately with her reply.

_“Why? You wanna fuck in the supply closet?”_

“Yes. Or we could go get lunch. My treat.”

_“K. I can’t get off the phones until 12:30, that work?”_

“It’s a date.”

I waited around by the elevator at 12:30 and eventually Mey-Rin came around the corner, smiling when she saw me.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” she said punching the down button on the elevator with more force than was strictly necessary.

“Bad day?” I asked.

“Meh. Let’s not talk about work. I figured you wanted to talk about boys, which is way more fun.” She looped her arm through mine once we got outside and started walking down the sidewalk.

“So, you and Finn got along alright, then?”

“Well, I was a little drunk, but we went back to his place and fooled around. He’s incredibly sweet. Maybe too sweet.”

“Didn’t put out, did he?” I asked, recognizing the level of frustration that settled onto her delicate features.

“Nope! He had to be a gentleman about it. I woke up fully clothed in his bed. He slept on the couch apparently. I didn’t get his number either. I hope he’s there again Friday.”

I laughed. “Well, you did better than I did.”

“Shut up. You’re so hot you don’t even know it. Jesse about creamed herself over you and I’ll fuck you in the supply closet anytime you want. Seriously. I am getting desperate here.” She squeezed my arm.

“Control yourself, woman.”

“You think girls are totally yucky, don’t you?” She pouted, making her bottom lip quiver comically.

“Not entirely. I’ve had a girlfriend, but I prefer guys. I’m probably 70-30, if that makes sense.”

“Totally. What you’re saying is that I still have a chance to hit this, I just have to work harder.” Her hand patted my bum affectionately.

“Sure. You’ll probably have more luck with blondie though.”

She sighed. “Yeah, that’s right, because you have the hots for Bard’s friend from New York,” she said once she pulled me into a pizza place and then down into an empty booth. As if on cue, Bard came out from the kitchen in a white chef’s jacket covered in stains, cigarette still tucked behind his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart!” he said to Mey-Rin, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “And…Ciel, right?” he looked at me.

“That’s right. Nice to see you again.”

“You guys work together?” he asked, nodding at our stupid office clothes.

“Uh-huh,” Mey-Rin said. “We’re on a lunch date.”

“Isn’t that adorable. I’ll bring out a veg pie in two shakes,” he said turning to head back for the kitchen.

“So, he’s a DJ and a chef?” I asked.

“Multi-talented is our Baldroy,” she said.

“He’s from New York?”

“Yes, and he has a hot friend visiting.” She said, leaning in and whispering in a conspiratorial voice.

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“You are such a fucking liar.” She leaned over to punch my arm.

“Ouch! What’s your problem, woman!” I laughed.

“You are, you liar. Just admit it and I’ll tell you what I know,” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

 “Ok, he’s not bad looking, I guess.”

“Ha!” she pointed a slim digit in my face. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Bard asked, setting a pizza down on our table. He tossed over some paper plates and slid into the booth next to Mey-Rin, grabbing a slice of pizza.

“Ciel likes your friend!” she squealed.

“Woman, shut your face!” I tried to slap her but she deftly dodged my attempt.

“Hey, hey now kids. Let’s settle down.” Bard said. “Which friend are we talking about?”

“The tall one! The tall boy!” Mey-Rin said.

“Ooooh…that would be Sebastian.” He grinned.

Mey-Rin was so excited that she stomped her feet under the booth. “That is the coolest name!  Does he like boys?”

“Oh my God, will you shut up?” I buried my head in my hand dying from embarrassment.

“Heh. I don’t know him that well. It hasn’t come up yet.” Bard grabbed another piece of pizza, stuffing it into his face.

 “What else! What else!” she bounced next to him.

“I don’t know, babe.  He lives in Brooklyn but he’s here for a few weeks working in a tattoo shop.”

“Whaaat? He’s a tattoo guy?” she squealed.

“Woman, would you settle down?” I appealed to her, daring to take a slice of pizza to give my hands something to do.

“Yeah, he’s an artist.” Bard looked at his watch and scarfed down his third piece of pizza. “Break’s over. Gotta run, kiddies. See you Friday?”

“Love you!” Mey-Rin latched onto his waist for a hug as he slid out of the booth.

“You too, babe. See you later, Ciel.”

“Later.” I said. I was trying to swallow the dread I felt thinking that he was about to report this conversation back to tall guy. Sebastian. I melted slightly just thinking his name. Oh, boy.

Mey-Rin slapped the table in front of me to get my attention. “So?” she stared at me with wide eyes looking huge behind her thick lenses.

“So, what?”

“So, are you in love with him?”

“Bard?” I asked being deliberately obtuse.

“No, you dope. Sebastian!”

“I don’t know him.” Oh, but I wanted to. 


	4. Zombie Barbie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will work. Now, get naked.

On Thursday, Mey-Rin slipped me another folded flyer while I was lingering at the coffee machine.

“Theme night!” she whispered before vanishing into the ladies room and out of my reach. Back at my desk I unfolded the kite and saw what she meant.

_Friday Night at Plague: Necronomicon Ex-Mortis!_

_Evil Dead Party featuring DJs Rivithead Rick and Lady Loki._

_Prizes for best zombies, grotesque dress encouraged. 21+, $5 cover, $3 for the undead._

I felt a grin spread across my face despite still being at work. I’d have to rethink my outfit of course, but it would be worth it. That redhead, I liked her. I picked up my phone and shot a quick bit of sass.

“Just saw the flyer. Heading to the supply closet.”

_“Tease!”_

“I’m seriously going to staple the shit out of you.”

_“I’ll just bend down to change this toner…”_

“Come on baby, I wanna see you makin some copies.”

_“Shit. It's the boss lady, can’t talk.”_

“Put your phone in your lap. I’ll keep texting.”

Friday took forever, but when 5 finally hit I grabbed Mey-Rin at the elevator and we ran out of the building together to her car. She insisted that I pre-game at her apartment and talk zombie makeup.

“I don’t wear makeup,” I said as she dragged me up the stairs to her 3rd floor apartment.

“It’s more like war paint,” she said. She opened the door and led me into her spooky den of female sin. Her roommate was a very normal looking blond watching some kind of bland looking television program.

“This is Lizzy. Lizz, this is Ciel. No touchy, he’s mine,” she warned.

“Cieeeel! Nice to meet you,” she chirped, reaching over the back of the couch to grab my hand. “Oh, you’re adorable!”

“Thanks, I guess,” I said.

“She’s not dragging you to that basement thing, is she? I went last Halloween and it was awful!”

“I’m afraid so,” I admitted.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go have loud, messy sex in my room,” Mey-Rin said, taking my hand.

The roommate scoffed. “Umm, gross,” and turned the television up louder.

Mey-Rin was nearly in hysterics as she closed the bedroom door. “Oh, she’s fun. Not very bright, but she pays her rent on time and doesn’t leave dirty dishes.”

“Fair enough,” I said. Mey-Rin pushed me onto her bed and then rushed past me to her closet.

“What are you going to wear?!”

“Umm…nothing from your closet.” I was slightly horrified at what was about to happen.

“Don’t be a prude, Ciel.” She started throwing articles of clothing toward the bed.

“First of all, is anyone actually going to dress up, or am I going to be completely idiotic showing up with a costume?”

“Yes! I am.” She kept pawing through the closet without looking at me.

“Besides you, cupcake.”

“I thought you were excited about the theme?”

“I am. I just…”

“What? You just want to be all sexy for Sebastian?”

“Ugh. I wish you would drop it.”

“Nope. Not likely. It’s tooooo juicy.” She came towards me with a white dress shirt. “This will work. Now, get naked.”

“Woman, you are insatiable.”

Mey-Rin waggled her eyebrows and then jumped onto the bed and started bouncing, making the headboard slap against the wall and the springs squeak.

“Oh my god, would you stop!” I tried to grab ahold of her only to be pulled into her madness as she continued to bounce, adding some obscene sounds for good measure.

Something heavy hit the door followed by her roommate’s shriek of “Gross, Mey-Rin! Can’t you do that at his house?!”

She fell off the bed laughing and I couldn’t help but join her.

“Seriously though, take off your shirt and put this on.”

Several shots of whiskey, a pair of scissors and lots of questionable makeup later, Mey-Rin had turned me into her own personal zombie Barbie. Looking at the black shadow of my uncovered eye and the extra gauntness the makeup added to my cheeks, I had to admit that I looked pretty decent. The white shirt was cut to rags and smeared with fake blood and some black makeup to make it look dirty and grave-fresh. She even added some girly junk to my hair.  

I sat on the bed and watched as she did her own makeup, feeling the delicious warmth in my stomach from the whiskey and the building excitement for the evening to come.


	5. Come Get Some

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ll enjoy that later when you’re puking in the gutter.

Mey-Rin pulled off her office-friendly cardigan and the tank top beneath, standing there in her bra, waggling her eyebrows at me in the mirror. She grabbed one of the many black dresses that she had tossed onto the bed and pulled it over her head.  Hopping ungracefully on from one foot to the other, she wiggled out of her pants and smoothed the dress down preserving her modesty. A pair of torn fishnet tights and her trusty chunky heel boots and she was dressed.

When she finally put the makeup brush down and turned around, I saw the most exquisite zombie princess before me. Her skin was pale with a sickly greenish tint; her eyes darkly shadowed, lips black and artfully smudged and splattered with fake blood. She had popped in some contacts so she could go sans glasses for the evening and the change was dramatic.

“Wow, girl, you’re good at this!” I said.

“Shut up, I know it.” She spun on her heels and opened the bedroom door, peering around the corner to see if her roommate was still settled on the couch. Lizzy still sat glued to the marathon of mediocrity that had gained her attention. Mey-Rin put a finger to her lips to indicate that I should be quiet as she snuck into the living room and vaulted over the back of the couch to land next to her roommate. The shriek of surprise only escalated when Lizzy looked to see Mey-Rin’s makeup.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she shouted as Mey-Rin did her best zombie grunt and attempted to eat her roommate’s brains.

“Nope, it’s no good. I’ll starve if we stay here, Ciel,” Mey-Rin announced, getting off the couch and grinning widely. She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the apartment. Lizzy caught a look at me and wrinkled her nose before turning back to her reality show.

We got into Mey-Rin’s rickety Toyota, turning up _White Zombie_ on the crappy cd player, and she drove us back downtown. The car bumped and jostled down the cobble stone streets until she slid it expertly into a parallel parking space at top speed while my fingernails clutched at the dashboard.

“Settle down, Ciel. I have excellent depth perception.”

“Then why do you have to wear those thick glasses?”

“Tsk, shut up. I’m not even wearing them tonight and I can see perfectly,” she said, slamming the car door dramatically. “We need to make a stop before we go down to Plague.”

“What? It’s already 9 o’clock though.” I had to jog to catch up to her as she took off down the sidewalk.

“Ooo…you’ve got it bad!” She laughed and started to skip. I was slightly mortified as I watched the passersby take notice of the frolicking zombie girl. She stopped suddenly and then darted into an Irish pub called _Etain_. I caught the door before it swung shut and spotted her redhead as it made a b-line to the shinning wooden bar.

She perched up on a bar stool, her short dress preserving her modesty only barely. I came to sit next to her and then noticed the bartender was the same short blond boy from the club last Friday. He finished chatting with a customer and then turned toward us and stopped dead when he saw Mey-Rin. He shyly walked over, running hand through his longish hair and smiling sweetly. He had on some plaid trousers and a white dress shirt with thin black suspenders. He kept his hair back from his face with a few clips and was overall adorable.

“H…Hi, Mey-Rin,” he said.  “You look amazing!” he said, taking in the zombie princess sitting at the bar.

“I just wanted to make sure you were coming tonight,” she said softly enough that he had to lean in closer to hear her in the bar. She grabbed one of his suspenders and pulled him closer. His face immediately colored.

“Uh…um…well, I have to work until 10, but after that I can come…um…go over. Ha,” he smiled and rubbed his neck nervously.

“Good,” she said, spinning on the bar stool and giving the poor boy a wink before she headed out of the bar. I gave the stunned boy a friendly wave and then had to scramble again to keep up with her.

“What was that all about?” I asked. “Are you trying to give the boy a heart attack?”

“Maybe,” she giggled. “Now it’s your turn to set some bait for your man.”

“Ugh, really? I thought you were going to stop talking about him?”

“Nope! I certainly never said that.”

“He’s probably not even into guys,” I said weakly as she shot me a look that shut me up. I’ve only known the girl for a week and she’s already calling me on my bullshit. It must be love.

Once we got closer to _Sanctuary_ we started to see zombies everywhere.  Some had movie-quality elaborate make up and costumes while others just had Halloween white face paint smeared on their faces. It was the most amazing thing to see the street swarming with undead and the regular Friday night bar crowd looking on with confusion.

I had a quick smoke before we headed inside while Mey-Rin chatted with the other smokers, introducing me to some of the regulars. I smiled and shook hands, realizing that everyone was in makeup and would be difficult to identify at a later point in time. My attention was divided anyway as I scanned each approaching zombie looking for the tall guy, disappointment setting in when I didn’t see him. I flicked the spent clove cigarette into the street and decided it was time for a drink.

Jesse had her blond hair teased within an inch of its life and her face was stark white with tiny black lips painted on to the center of her mouth. She looked like a dead little doll with her puffy sleeved white dress and huge platform Maryjane shoes swinging above the floor while she sat on her stool at the doorway. She took my three dollars and stamped my hand with a smile. “Glad you came back, kiddo,” she said. “You look great.”

“Well, Mey-Rin gets the credit for dressing me.”

“She had a hot canvas to work with though,” she winked at me and then turned to help the next crop of zombies coming down the stairs.

“That girl wants my boomstick,” I whispered to Mey-Rin as we headed to the bar.

“Yeah, she totally does. You thinking about it?”

 “You’re all the woman I need, baby. Now buy me a drink.”

The basement club was just starting to get full and there was already a little crowd on the dance floor. Against one of the walls near the bar a projection of _Evil Dead_ was playing, casting strange lights across already strange faces as they passed in front of the projector. The music was still atrocious. Boring industrial dance that seemed to go nowhere, but it still made me feel happy to see the kids bounce around.

Mickey was at his place behind the bar, working solo once again in his too small black t-shirt. No costume, I noted with a slight frown.

“What do ya want, kid?” He asked gruffly but threw me a little wink.

I glanced at the special board, happy to see that he was at least keeping the beverages with the theme of the night.

“I’ll try the ‘Ash Williams’ please,” I said with my best smile. He didn’t wait for Mey-Rin’s drink order, but turned to fix my drink and popped open a hard cider for my lady. Mey-Rin chucked some money on the bar before I could stop her.

“You can get the next round,” she said as she pulled me back into the crowd.

I took a look at my drink in the dark trying to figure out what it was that I was smelling before I put it in my face. The concoction was brownish and fizzy. I took a dainty sip while Mey-Rin watched.

“You might want to stick with something safer, because that truly does look evil,” she said wrinkling her nose.

“I think I detect notes of Kahlua…and…” I took another small sip swishing the drink around like a fine wine, “ginger ale. And rum, holy shit, lots of rum.”

“You’ll enjoy that later when you’re puking in the gutter.”

I was just about to protest her insinuation that I couldn’t handle my liquor when I saw a tall figure descend the stairs into the basement. My heart stopped for a just a second when I saw him and I chastised myself for acting like a stupid kid. But my god was he fine. His dark hair was slicked back except for an artful curl against his forehead. His face had some sort of bloody cuts, and his blue dress shirt was tucked into a pair of rather snug khaki pants and was torn across his chest exposing the pale skin beneath. I swallowed hard I noticed the tattoos that had been exposed. He wore a straps crisscrossed over his chest that I saw held a prop chainsaw on his back.

Mey-Rin had noticed my laser-like focus and leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Usually I don’t approve of Dockers in the goth club, but in this case I think I’ll allow it. Damn, those are tight enough I can tell which side he tucked.”

“Umm…”

“You might want to close your mouth, dear,” she said. “Here comes Baldroy.”


	6. Undead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from drinking multiple Ash Willaims

I might not have recognized Bard if Mey-Rin hadn’t just pointed him out. His face was painted to look like a skull, face white, eyes completely blacked out and a toothy grimace across his lips. He was dressed all in black and had managed a very ominous presence. He still had his goggles around his neck and a cigarette ready behind his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted Mey-Rin with a squeeze around the waist. “I’d kiss ya but we’d both smudge our makeup.”

“That’s ok, I appreciate the thought. Don’t you go on soon?”

“Yeah, I’m heading now. Got some fun stuff planned!”

Mey-Rin bounced up and down in excitement. “I hope there’s some _Nine Inch Nails_!”

“You fucking poser,” he said shaking his head and walking toward the DJ booth. 

“You love me!” She called after him, then slammed the rest of her cider and swung her pretty head over to me. “It’s time for round two,” she announced handing me her empty.

I took a few hardy swigs of my own drink and then started back toward the bar. Bard had taken over the DJ booth and was making a quick intro to his set over the PA system that made me glance in that direction just long enough that I ran right into what I thought was a brick wall. To my horror it was of course the object of my current obsession. All six foot, six inches of him turning to look at me.

“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Campbell,” I said to the stunning man looking down at me. I was impressed that I managed to say anything.

“You’re funny, huh?” he said.

“Mostly clumsy.” I gave him my very best charming smile, knowing that it had the ability to melt lesser men.

“You gave me a clove cigarette last week, didn’t you?” he asked tilting his head to the side as he looked me over. I was grateful for the corpse paint that was hopefully camouflaging my blush.

I nodded, still smiling like an idiot.

“Bard says you work with his redhead friend.” His accent was killing me as much as seeing his gorgeous face up close again. He leaned back against the bar in a way that indicated he was settling in to chat for a minute. It took all of my self-control not to look down as those long legs kicked out toward me. Of course I thought about the comment Mey-Rin had made about how tight his pants were. Was it left or right?

“Yeah, for the time being anyway. It’s a shit job. She’s cool though.”

“She seems like a hot ticket,” he smiled showing me a perfect set of teeth. “So what’s your deal?”

“My deal?” I asked, puzzled by the question. What was my deal? Did I have a deal?

“Yeah. You’re not from here,” he clarified.

“Oh, no I’m not. I just moved here from Montreal,” I said.

“Yeah? That’s a cool town. I’ve worked there a few times at conventions.”

“Tattoo conventions?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Why was it so hard to talk to his amazingly handsome face?

He nodded.  “You got any?”

“Um. Tattoos?” again, the idiot speaks. Ugh.

He nodded again.

“I have one. I got it when I was a teenager. It’s not that great.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I could fix it for you,” he smiled again and sploosh my heart exploded in my chest.

“That would be great. I mean, I don’t know if you’d want to bother. It’s nothing special.” I was babbling now. Why was I babbling?

“I don’t believe that,” he said. “What are you drinking?” he gestured to my empty cup.

“Uh, well I got the Ash Williams,” I gestured to the board, wishing I had ordered something slightly less girly and also realizing that the man in front of me was dressed as the aforementioned character.

“Ash Williams?” he laughed. “Well let’s get you another.” He gestured to Mickey and within a few minutes I had a fresh evil drink and that distractingly beautiful face was looking at me again as he took a sip of beer.

“You’re from New York?” I asked.

“What gave me away?”

“Oh, uh, Bard actually mentioned it. But you do have an accent.”

“So do you,” he said.

“Ha. Do I?” My face felt like it was on fire. Was he flirting with me?

“Where’s the tattoo?” he asked.

“My shoulder,” I answered.

He seemed to be considering this information carefully. “What is it? How big?”

“Um. It’s a pentagram. About this big,” I said holding up my hand to indicate the size of the tattoo, about four inches in diameter.

“Black?”

“Or course.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked. I mentally set fire to my calendar, clearing my schedule for the next forever.

“Recovering from drinking multiple Ash Willaims.”

“You are funny,” that smile again. “Come by the shop and keep me company and I’ll fix it for you. I’ve been bored out of my skull.” He pulled a card out of his pocket, somehow reaching into the extremely tight fabric, and handed it to me.

“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.”

He gave me one more smile and then strode off toward the DJ booth leaving me holding my drink and the black business card with what I can only guess was a stupid expression on my face. I swallowed the rest of my drink and then asked Mickey for two ciders.

“Took you long enough,” Mey-Rin said, snatching the bottle from my hand.

“I think I have a date,” I said.

“Whaaaaaat? You little minx!”

“He asked me to stop by the tattoo shop tomorrow to keep him company.”

“Shut. Up.”

Just as I was about to throw a snarky come back at my lady, Bard threw on a song that brought the club to a collective squeal of delight. Mey-Rin pulled me to the dance floor as the choir vocals of ‘This Corrosion’ dissolved into the drum machine beat that none of us could help but move to. Like some gothic music video, the entire club seemed to be caught up in the song and regardless of ability or affiliation, we all danced. When the song ended, Bard took us right into some _Siouxsie and the Banshees_ and we kept dancing, laughing and twirling with friends and strangers. At one point Mey-Rin deliberately bumped me right into the path of the tall guy before running off toward Finn who had wandered into the chaos. I saw Finn smile brightly as she crashed into him. All grace, that girl.

The song changed to ‘Romeo’s Distress’ and I felt Sebastian place a hand lightly on my hip as we danced. I caught his eye for a brief moment only to be pulled away by the tiny dolly girl, Jesse. She had finally been relieved of her post at the door and was itching to dance. I gave in and took her small hands in mine to spin her around, looking wistfully over my shoulder to see where Sebastian had gone.

Hours must have gone by because Mickey was hollering his last call at the bar and Bard was playing ‘Bella Lugosi’s Dead’ giving us one last chance to dance before we were kicked out of our basement club.

Everyone poured out of the club, hustled by the security guards in their bright yellow t-shirts, onto the brick sidewalks and into the crisp air. I felt better than I had in so long that I was euphoric as I pulled out a cigarette and chatted with a few laughing and not entirely sober kids outside the door. I scanned the crowd looking for Mey-Rin and of course looking for Sebastian. I was just about to give up and head home when someone threw their arms around me from behind.

“Ciel! Wasn’t that fun! Did you have fun, my little zombie Ciel!?” Mey-Rin chattered drunkenly in my ear.   

“Yes, Sweetness, I had a great time,” I said, pulling her into a hug. I looked to Finn who stood nearby looking uncertain and a little confused. “Hey, Finn? Are you sober enough to get the lady home?”

“Yeah…um…yes. Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink tonight,” he said, standing up straighter in an attempt to look even more sober.

I dug into Mey-Rin’s purse, a little bag shaped like a coffin, while she was still hanging off me, and found her keys and tossed them to the blond boy. “It’s that black Toyota over there,” I pointed to the beat up vehicle. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and nudged her in the boy’s direction. He caught her hand and they walked toward her car. I smiled at a job well done.

“Tomorrow,” I heard a voice next to my ear. Sebastian was pointing to me as he walked away from the club. I managed to smile and nod. My brain was already done making witty conversation for the night.


	7. Post-Zombie Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are just full of surprises,” he said with a wicked looking smile, melting me where I stood.

Predictably, I woke up with a headache and a horrible case of cotton mouth. I sat up in the too bright sunlight that came in through my bedroom window, blinking and trying to find my phone. I had no idea what time I should go to the tattoo shop, or even what the hell I was going to do once I got there. Get a tattoo, I guess?

First things first, I knew I should get up and drink a lot of water and get some food into my stomach. Eating healthy, regular meals wasn’t something I excelled at. I was naturally skinny and didn’t seem to get hungry. Coffee, however, was something I could understand and viewed as a necessity.

It was just after one o’clock when I laced up my boots and started the relatively long walk to the tattoo shop. It was cold for October, and I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt and stuffed my hands in the pockets while I walked. By the time I found the place, a second floor shop right off of one of the main streets on the western side of downtown, my face felt icy and I was glad to be inside. Walking up the stairs I could already hear loud music coming from the shop along with the buzz of a tattoo machine. Opening the door I was greeted by a painted mural of a black winged demon holding an attractive young girl in a pink dress and her hair done-up in pigtails. There were the usual walls of tattoo flash and assorted skulls and other spooky items distributed around the room. The walls were painted dark red and the wooden trim work was all black.

No one was at the counter in the front, but as I peered around the corner I could see someone lying face down on table while Sebastian worked on the back of his calf. The hum of the tattoo machine cut through the music that filled the room. I took the opportunity to watch him while he was unaware. His hair was cut short in the back and he had pushed the longer pieces that framed his face neatly behind his ears. He had on a snug black t-shirt and I could see tattoos on both of his upper arms just peeking out below the shirt sleeves. The muscles of his arms moved as he worked, making my mouth feel dry.

As though he knew he was being watched, he turned around and glanced in my direction. Those strange reddish brown eyes settled on me and he smiled.  

“Hey!” he called over the noise. “I’m just finishing up.” The machine buzzed again as he cleaned off the ink of one color and then dipped it into another, leaning back over the leg to work.

After about five minutes he put down the tattoo machine and wiped off the leg with some paper towels. “I think you’re done, man.” He said to the guy on the table. “Get up and take a look.” The man gingerly got off the table and walked stiffly to the mirror. He seemed impressed with the work. I still couldn’t see from where I stood and busied myself looking through the book of work on the counter while I waited.

“Perfect timing,” Sebastian said as the customer left the shop and he came over to greet me. “That was the only appointment I have for the whole day and I’m stuck here until 8 tonight.” He smiled that amazing smile and I felt my brain threaten to abandon me.

“Well, I didn’t want you to be bored,” I said lamely. “Is it always this slow here?”

“Not when Claude is here, he has appointments booked six months in advance. I was hoping to catch some of his overflow, but it’s been a little hit or miss.”

“Seems like a nice shop anyway. No zombies.”

He laughed. “So, let’s get a look at this pentagram and see what we’re dealing with,” he said. I felt my face turn a dozen shades of red realizing that I was about to take my shirt off in front of him. I shrugged out of my hoodie and tossed it onto a chair and then pulled up my ratty t-shit, turning so he could see my back. His warm huge hand rested on my shoulder as he looked, tracing his fingers over the tattoo, making me shiver.

“Is it bad?” I asked, just for something to say.

“No, not bad. A little unimaginative. Why’d you get a pentagram, anyway? You into devil worship or something?” he laughed again and walked back toward his work station. I pulled my shirt back on but not before taking a look at the way his ass filled out his faded black jeans.

“Ha, no, not exactly. I had a thing for Paganini and the idea of his contact with the devil. The idea is that the more prominent the sign of the pact is, the more strength it has.” Holy shit, I sound crazy. Couldn’t I just have said that I thought it looked cool? Ugh.

“You play the violin?” he asked, surprising me. Usually I have to explain who Niccolo Paganini is.  

“Yeah. Well, not like him, but I can play. I don’t have a Stradivarius or anything. “

“You are just full of surprises,” he said with a wicked looking smile, melting me where I stood.

“So, I don’t have a lot of money to get tattooed, but I would like this fixed up a bit.”

“No charge. You’re helping me out by keeping me sane this afternoon.” He pulled a fresh sheet of paper over the table and patted it indicating that I should hop up. I pulled my shirt off again and complied, feeling incredibly nervous. Being alone in the shop with him was almost too much.

“Are you sure? I want to pay you for your time,” I said. I was glad that my tattoo was on my back because I was starting to sport a minor chub just watching the way his arms flexed as he worked setting up his supplies.

“I’m sure,” he said. “Do you trust me to work something out here?”

“I trust you,” I said. I closed my eyes as he began to sketch on my back with a sharpie whatever design it was that he had in mind. Feeling his warm fingers against my skin was sinfully sweet and I enjoyed every second of it. His free hand rested lightly on the back of my neck while he worked. After my initial nervousness, we started to talk in the easy way that friends can talk, laughing and making inappropriate jokes, talking about music and our mutual friends. It seemed like no time had passed before he nudged me to get up so I could look at his drawing in the mirror.

“Don’t worry about the color; that’s just for my reference. I’ll keep it black and grey. It looks good against your pale skin.” I couldn’t help but notice that his gaze moved down my back as he said it. Is he flirting? Why could I still not tell?

I looked in the mirror and saw that the small pentagram had bloomed into a more elaborate design that incorporated the scrolled headstock of a violin and the elegant f-holes on either side, worked in to look like part of the demonic writing surrounding the five-pointed star. It was perfectly evil and beautifully amazing and I looked at it in shock, looking from the design to his face and smiling.

“Good?” he asked.

“Are you fucking kidding? This is amazing, I love it!”

“I thought you might. I just have one thing to ask before I start to tattoo you.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I kiss you? Because you’re driving me absolutely crazy.” He looked just the slightest bit uncertain as he said it, perhaps for the first time since I had seen him. I felt my breath completely stop and I wondered if I had heard him correctly.

“Um…” was the first thing to leave my mouth.  He took a step closer, looking at my face to gauge my reaction. “Fuck, so you were flirting with me.” I finally said.

“Too subtle?” he was standing right in front of me now, looking down at me. His jaw clenched just slightly and I had to catch my breath. I used his studded belt to pull him the last few inches closer, crashing his hips into me. He leaned down to place his lips on mine. It was a soft touch, barely a brush against my lips before he pulled back to look at me. I knew my face was red but I didn’t care. He leaned in again, a little longer this time, pulling just slightly on my bottom lip as he withdrew. It was too soon. I wanted more, but he was already walking away. I stood there for a moment in shock.

“Now get back on my table. It’s time for pain.” He smiled. I obeyed with only the slightest hesitation, still feeling amazed and elated.


	8. Snake Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I really just kiss that face?

Back on the table, my brain buzzing as surely as the tattoo machine as he carefully fitted it with new needles and adjusted the tension. I watched him as he worked, watched his arms flex, checked out his broad shoulders as he reached up into the cabinet for more ink. He rested one gloved hand on my arm and leaned down so he could see my face.

“I have a fairly light hand, but let me know if you need a break,” he said.

Did I really just kiss that face? His dark eyes completely mesmerized me.

I nodded that I understood and closed my eyes, awaiting the sting of the needle, ready to be tortured by his hand. Hurt me, you brute.

Strangely, the first jolt of the needle calmed me, sending me into a forced relaxation. The sensation was tolerable, and feeling the warmth of his hands, even with the gloves, was comforting. There was a rhythm to the way he worked, and I could almost anticipate where the needle would travel.

“Did you really just kiss me?” I asked once it seemed like he had settled into his work and I had settled into my bliss.

“I guess I did. I think you might have kissed me back,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. He had a point. “How long have you been tattooing?”

“Why, you worried now?” he laughed to himself. “I wouldn’t do anything to mar this perfect skin.”

“Not at all. I’m just curious.”

“About nine years now professionally, I guess. I started as soon as I could get my hands on a machine.”

“Do you live in New York City?”

“Brooklyn. I let my apartment go to come here though to work with Claude. I’m staying with Baldroy for another few weeks and then I need to find a new place. It doesn’t seem like there’s much work for me here.”

“I only just met Baldroy, but he seems cool.” Between the deep rumble of his voice and the sound of the tattoo machine I was starting to feel lulled into a state of ease that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“What about you? What’s your story?” he paused and leaned down to see my face, smiling when he saw how sleepy I looked.

“No story, really. I have an apartment on the other side of town. No roommates. No real job.”

“You’re holding out on me,” he said.

“How do you figure?”    

“There’s more to you than that.”

“Not really,” I admitted. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get too deep into this conversation. I felt too peaceful to ruin it by talking about myself.

The buzz of the machine stopped and he wiped the raw artwork with a swipe of something cool. As soon as his hands left me the skin felt hot and irritated but deliciously sensitive.

“Do you want to take a look?” he asked. He took off his gloves and helped me sit up. I was stiff from staying still for so long.

Armed with a hand mirror, I looked at the tattoo in the long mirror hung on the wall. My shoulder was red and the ink was very black but it was as amazing as the drawing he had done earlier. Even more detailed and full of depth and shadow like a classical painting. My mouth fell open as I looked.

“I can’t believe you did this free hand. This is amazing, Sebastian!”  I couldn’t help myself as I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. I was so overwhelmed with emotion from seeing the artwork now adorning my skin that I forgot that I was half naked and now wrapping myself around him. He accepted the hug and rested his hands carefully on my lower back. His chest was so solid and I fit so perfectly against him that it was hard for me to pull back.

“Let’s get you bandaged up,” he said. “And then we can figure out how we’re going to spend the rest of our afternoon.”

“The rest of the afternoon?’ I asked.

“Well, I’m stuck her until eight anyway and you did say that you’d keep me company.”

“What did you have in mind?” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his reply.

Sebastian said nothing as he gently covered my fresh tattoo with plastic wrap and first aid tape. He pulled off his gloves and tossed them into the trash. His long fingers ran through his hair and he turned his gaze to meet mine. He seemed nervous for some reason that was completely unfathomable to me. God damn it, he was hot.

“We could try that other thing again,” I offered.

“What’s that?” he asked, just the slightest smile creeping to his lips. He appeared at a loss without any work left to do, pushing the row of ink bottles into a neater line and putting the box of gloves back into the cabinet to avoid looking at me for too long.

I took a few steps closer. “You know, that thing where it was sort of like this…” I stopped when I was close enough to reach out and touch his face, letting my fingers trace his sharp jaw.

“Oh, and then it was sort of like this?”

He leaned in and placed his lips to mine. So gentle, even now, even though I could feel him trembling as he held back. I used my tongue to open his lips and his jaw finally relaxed enough to let me in. His hand found the back of my neck, fingers digging into my hair. I let my hips fall against his and he moaned into my mouth, a sound that hurled me right into insanity. I kept pushing against him until his back was against the wall, letting my hands wander down to his hips, noticing how solid his stomach was on the way by.

My hands debated with my barely functioning brain as his tongue slid over mine, and when he started to grind against me slowly my hands decided to unbuckle his heavy studded belt. The leather was soft and worn and slid easily out of the buckle, giving my hand access to the button of his jeans. They had almost navigated to the zipper when he put a hand against my chest and pushed me firmly back.

“Whaa…” I started to complain against his delicious mouth.

“Shh…someone’s coming up the stairs. Fuck.” He fixed his belt and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Where’s your shirt?”

“Ugh,” was all I could say as he pushed past me.

The door flew open and a tall, thin man wearing a black jacket over a crisp white shirt and tie strode into the room. He had short, neat hair and glasses and looked distinctly out of place in the shop.

“Sebastian, I asked you not to play this sort of music in the shop,” he said by way of greeting. He took off his jacket and hung it up on a hook behind the desk. He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up revealing full sleeve tattoos on both arms, looking perfectly sinful and out of place against the conservative clothing.

“What do you care if you’re not here?” Sebastian asked flippantly.

“It can make clients feel uncomfortable,” the man said.

“It’s a tattoo shop, it’s not supposed to be comfortable.” Sebastian threw me a quick wink as the man began to flip through some paperwork. “What are you doing here, Claude?”

“I see that you got some work this afternoon,” he commented, avoiding the question.

“Yeah. Claude, this is Ciel. Ciel, meet Claude, the dickhead who owns this shop.”

“Oh. Hi,” I said. The man glanced in my direction with strange golden eyes and feigned a smile before going back to whatever important business he had riffling through papers.  

“Were there any other walk-ins?” Claude asked.

“Nope.”

“And no appointments, I see,” he said flipping through the ledger by the phone.

“Nope.”

“Good. I have a few coming in about twenty minutes that I’ll need help with.”

“What?”

Claude turned to regard Sebastian sternly over the rim of his glasses.

“Tattoo clients. You do remember how this works, right? There’s a bachelorette party coming in to get matching tattoos. There are eight total.”

“Fuck you. What?” Sebastian said, and I stifled a laugh at his irritation.

“Now turn this music off and set up your station. Please.”

Sebastian cast me a tortured look before he complied with Claude’s request. He whispered to me as I pulled my t-shirt back on over my bandaged shoulder.

“Look, I’m real sorry about this, but you should probably bail. Claude can be a huge dick when he’s stressed and I have a feeling this will be a nightmare.”

“Yeah. Alright,” I said. I found my sweatshirt and pulled it on, feeling awkward and horribly resentful toward the man who was now fiddling with his phone while scribbling something into the appointment ledger. As I slowly edged to the door, Sebastian mouthed “ _eight o’clock?”_

I nodded and gave him a smile, then headed down the stairs. It was downright freezing when I stepped outside, but in my weird state of excitement, confusion and irritation I didn’t really feel it.

Fuck. Why didn’t I get his number? It was five o’clock now, so I had three hours to kill and I felt far too wound up to walk home. I got my phone out and shot a text to Mey-Rin.

“Babes, what are you doing?”

_“Sucking dick. You?”_

“Same. Why do you think I texted?”

_“Too hard to talk?”_

“Oh, it’s hard.” Yeah, it still sort of was and I rubbed my hand casually against it as I typed into my phone. 

_“What’s up?”_

“I need food, booze and comfort. Wanna meet me downtown?”

_“Does this have anything to do with tall hot guy?”_

“Maybe.”

_“I’ll be there in 15. Can you meet me at Finn’s bar?”_

“Yes. Perfect.”

After a little bit of aimless wandering, I did find Etain, the Irish pub, again. It was fairly quiet this early on a Saturday and I had my choice of bar stools. Finn was at the bar and smiled when he saw me.

“Ciel, right?”

“Yes. Nice to see you again, Finn,” I smiled my most charming smile just for him and was treated to a blush. He really was adorable. He wore the plaid pants and suspenders again and looked perfectly at home in the Irish bar.

“I want you to know that your friend got home safe and sound last night.”

“Oh yeah? She’s on her way over here now, I was gonna ask her about it.”

That did it. His face turned twelve shades of red. Finny, you dog.

“Um…Can I…What do you want to drink?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What do you suggest?” I didn’t want to make this too easy for him since he seemed to want to get away from me now.

“I like a snake bite. It’s Guinness and cider,” he suggested, glad to have effectively changed the subject.

“Sounds good.”

He put the drink down on a fresh coaster. Black stout floated on a layer of golden cider inside the pint glass, perfectly separated, half and half. Finn gave me a nervous smile, his eyes darting to the door behind me, before he rushed off to help other customers.

Before I could take my first sip, a body collided with mine, spilling beer all over the bar. The giggle that followed let me know that I wasn’t about to get into a bar fight.

“Baby, you have got to stop doing that. Booze is too expensive to waste,” I said.

“It’s not my fault you can’t hold your liquor,” Mey-Rin said. She kissed me on the cheek before hopping up onto the barstool beside me. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt over a pair of black leggings with skeleton legs printed onto them and black Doc Martin boots.

“Blondie seems a bit flustered. What did you do to him?” I asked with a grin.

She shifted her gaze to make sure the boy was out of earshot then turned her own wicked grin my way.

“Well, I’d like to say I was a perfect gentleman, but that’s not the case,” she said.

“So you sobered up enough to wear through his defenses?” I laughed.

“Shut up. I wasn’t even drunk.” She slapped me, but I was ready and had my beer moved to the other side.

“You weren’t drunk? Then who was hanging all over me, smudging my zombie makeup?”

“Could have been anyone, you whore.”

Finn saw her sitting beside me and his face lit up. He cast a nervous look to me as he walked over, but his eyes were all for her.

“Hi, Mey-Rin,” he said.

“Hey. How’s work been so far?” she asked. Her smile was speaking volumes as she looked at him across the bar.

“Still slow, but it’ll pick up in another hour or so. Want something to drink?” he asked sweetly.

“I’ll have whatever you gave Ciel.”

The boy happily went off to prepare a drink for the lady and she immediately leaned in to whisper to me. “It didn’t take much convincing once we got back to his place. The boy is only human and I can be pretty persuasive.”

“Yeah? And it was worth the effort?”

“Oh, yeah, it was definitely worth the effort.”

Finn set her drink down along with a basket of French fries and gave Mey-Rin another adorable smile before getting back to work.

“So what’s going on with you? Are you still going to meet up with Sebastian today?” she asked.

“I spent most of the afternoon with him actually,” I said.

“What?! How could you not tell me that until right this second?” she hit me forcefully, nearly knocking me off the bar stool.

“Fuck! Yes, and I was just tattooed so please be gentle with me.”

“Tattooed? Did Sebastian tattoo you?!” She was hanging on my arm and I inched my beer further away from me.

“He did.”

“Holy batshit. You work fast. Where is it? Lemme see!”

“It’s on my back, and I’m not going to take my shirt off in the bar. It’s still wrapped up anyway.”

“Don’t think I won’t strip you just because we’re in public. At least tell me what happened. Everything. Now!”

“Well, he said that he was working all afternoon today and to stop by, so I went over sometime after one o’clock and he had no appointments or anything and no one else was working…”

“Whaaaa…was it just the two of you there?” she interrupted.

“Yeah. And he offered to fix my tattoo.”

“So you whipped your shirt off!”

“Will you kindly shut the fuck up and let me finish?” I took a long drink of my beer, enjoying the sweetness of the cider now that the two beverages had mixed in the glass as much as I enjoyed making Mey-Rin wait.

“Yeah, ok. I’m shutting.”

“So he drew this amazing design completely free hand, right onto my shoulder. It was impressive and incredibly sexy. And when I went to look at it in the mirror he asked if he could kiss me.” I said the last part quickly, talking into my pint glass.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? He asked if he could kiss you? And what did you even say to that?”

“I don’t know what I said, but I grabbed his stupid face. I can’t even believe how sexy he is.”

“So how did you even end up getting tattooed if you were all makey-outey?” She had inched so close to me that she was practically sitting in my lap now.

“He’s like a professional. He wanted to finish his work so he tattooed me and we talked for an hour or more and then I couldn’t handle it anymore and had to eat his face.”

“So what the hell are you doing here then?” she looked at me with confusion knitting her pretty little brow.

“Some guy named Claude broke up our make out session and I got booted out. And now Sebastian’s stuck working until eight.”

“Claude? He works at Claude Faustus’ shop?”

Finn had come back over with another drink for each of us, overhearing the last bit of conversation. “Claude Faustus is amazing. He’s like the best tattoo artist in the Northeast or something,” he said.

“Yeah, and a major asshole from what I’ve heard,” Mey-Rin added. “His work is fantastic, but you’d have to be around him long enough to sit for him.”

“I did get the impression that he was a bit cantankerous,” I said.

“So are you going to wait around then until Sebastian gets out?”

“I don’t have a choice. I don’t have his number and there’s no way I’m waiting until next Friday to see his ridiculous face again.”


	9. Slow Burn Gasoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t answer this if there’s a dick in any part of your body.”

I started loitering outside of the tattoo shop just after eight. Finn had made sure that Mey-Rin and I imbibed three pints each, giving him several chances to come back to talk to her, and I was feeling warm from the alcohol and anticipation as I leaned up against the brick wall of the building. I took a slow, thoughtful drag from my cigarette, realizing that I had already gone through three packs in the last two weeks, but enjoying the calmness that it produced in me. The scent of cloves and smoke made me feel content.

There was nothing for me at home except an empty apartment and a half-consumed bottle of wine. I had no intention of going back there until I absolutely had to. I still wasn’t used to living alone. But alone was safe and after the bad time I had in Montreal, I didn’t like the idea of ever having another roommate. Having anyone around me while I was asleep was too much of a risk. I knew that not everyone was crazy like that stupid boy, but the idea still freaked me out. Not only did I have to move from my apartment, I had to move out of the city and out of the country to get the fuck away from him and away from the memory.

I pushed the thought away before it brought me into a fit of depression. It was always right under the surface, waiting for me to slip into it like a comfortable bath. Waiting for me to slip my head under the surface and inhale the warm water of it right into my chest.

Mey-Rin had gone back home after flirting with poor Finny in front of his coworkers. She made him promise to call her when he got off work, and he seemed to accept his fate. He brought us sandwiches and more French fries to help soak up the beer, already knowing that Mey-Rin could throw back the drinks when she had a mind to. She was all smiles and giggles when I walked her to her car. She made me promise to strip and show her my tattoo and to spill anything and everything that happened with Sebastian.

The window of the shop was still lit up at eight-thirty and I was beginning to feel cold and not a little irritated at that tall handsome idiot, Claude, who seemed to be keeping Sebastian working late. I debated whether or not I should go up to the shop, but didn’t want to get in the way.

But I did really need to take a piss.

I lit another clove and debated if I should go up and beg to use the bathroom or if I should go back to the bar and risk missing Sebastian. Thinking about his rough mouth on mine made me clench my hands. What would have happened if stupid Claude hadn’t broken up our afternoon? I could kick that guy’s perfect fucking teeth in.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I decided to go up the stairs to the shop and try to peek in door. I heard voices and I could tell they were female and overly excited from the high-pitched shrieking. Of course they’d probably be hanging all over both of the tattoo artists. Sebastian’s arms were enough to drive any mortal man or woman crazy. I bit my lip and tried to see past the front desk into the room.

It didn’t seem like he would be done anytime soon. This was not a party that was wrapping up. I craned my neck to try to see Sebastian, but I couldn’t quite see into the corner where his tattoo station was. I suppose that was probably by design to ensure privacy from peeping idiots like myself. What I could see was a group of women snapping pictures with their phones and chattering like a flock of annoying birds. I was just about to go back down the stairs when the door opened, nearly pushing me backwards off the landing.

“What’s up, creeper?” Sebastian said, grabbing ahold of my arm and pulling me toward him and away from the stairs.

“Christ, I think I was about to break my neck! Thanks.”

“Anytime. I wouldn't want that." He said. "I’m sorry about this. We ended up with ten women wanting matching tattoos and they’ve spent more than an hour arguing over who was getting tattooed by who. I still have two left to go before I can leave,” he said, still holding onto my arm.

“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t coming back,” I said. “I probably shouldn’t be hanging around though if you’re still working.”

“Actually, you could do me a huge favor. Would you go get me something to eat?” he asked. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and thinly veiled excitement that made me smile uncontrollably.

“Of course. Any requests? You probably have to eat a ton being all huge like you are,” I teased.

“Anything. I could eat a ton of just about anything right now.” He kissed me quick on the cheek and thrust a twenty dollar bill into my hands and I was heading back down the stairs to the street again. Little goth errand boy. I was kind of glad to have a task to do even if I had no idea where to get him food or what I should get. What the heck did he eat? He was so solid; I couldn’t imagine he lived off the junk that I ate. When I actually ate.

First things first, I had to pee so badly that I could taste it. I scanned both sides of the street looking for a place that might sell food and have a bathroom, but this part of downtown was nearly all bars and high end restaurants. I figured my best bet was to go back to Etain and see if Finn could wrap up a sandwich for me.

The bar was packed now with standing room only at the bar and loads of loud patrons jostling around. The bathrooms were at the back of the bar, past the strange little snug booths, and just beyond a small stage where a band was setting up for the evening. I weaved through the crowd and slammed my way through the heavy door just before I made an embarrassment of myself.

Coming back from the restroom hallway, through the propped-open rear exit near the stage, I saw a glimpse of blond hair that made me stop in my tracks. It was just a brief look before it was gone out the door, but I could have sworn I had seen Jim, my former roommate.

A wave of panic hit me and I felt nauseous. The crowd was heavy enough that I had to keep moving and eventually made it out to the main area of the pub where I saw Finn’s sweet face at the bar. I pushed my way through and pressed my chest against the bar. As soon as he was able, he came over to me.

“Ciel, you’re back?” he said.

“Yeah, I need a favor.” Even in my agitated state I managed to pull out my charming smile for him.

“Sure. W…what can I do?”

“Is it possible to get a few sandwiches packed up to go?” I had an idea suddenly.

“Yeah, of course! What kind do you want?”

“Um…something with chicken and something vegetarian. Whatever you can pull together quick is great.” Finn took that request and zipped back to the register to put in the order without a question. He was such a good little bartender. He even brought me a glass of water while I waited for the food even though the bar was so busy and loud he could barely spare the time.

Heading back to the tattoo shop with my little bundle of food, anticipating seeing Sebastian again, I had almost forgotten to feel the dread and apprehension that seemed to stalk me like a vampire in the night. I skipped up the stairs and went into the shop, throwing a bright smile to Claude when he looked up to see who was barging in.

“I brought food, kiddies!” I announced.

Sebastian immediately pulled off his gloves and came over to see what I had. I could practically hear his stomach growling.

“I didn’t know what to get, but I had a feeling that Claude was maybe vegetarian,” I said, holding out the Styrofoam box in his direction. Sebastian snatched the other sandwich from the bag and tore it open.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” he said with a mouth full of sandwich. I put a bottle of water down near him, watching my fingers. I couldn’t help but watch him eat, amazed at how quickly the food was disappearing. The gaggle of women seemed annoyed by the interruption, but even Claude looked like he was ready for a break.

“I am. Thank you,” Claude said.

“You’re welcome.” I gave him my best smile, attempting to win him over.

“Isn’t he the best? Claude?” Hey, dickhead…” Sebastian goaded the fastidious man who picked at the veggie wrap I had procured.

“Yes, Sebastian. I already thanked him for the sandwich.”

“You’re welcome, Claude,” I threw another smile his way then turned back to watch Sebastian finish the rest of his fries and drink half the bottle of water in one breath. I couldn’t help but notice his long throat as he swallowed. Was that a tattoo just at the edge of his collar? Getting his shirt off was going to be like an art exhibit. Sculpture and painting.

“His name is Ciel,” Sebastian said.

“Thank you, Ciel,” Claude said, grudgingly.

“See, he can be tolerable sometimes,” Sebastian laughed.

The females were getting bored now that the men were busy eating and talking amongst themselves and all but the remaining three left the shop, creating a quieter and more pleasant environment. I was about to leave too and let them get back to work, but Sebastian pointed to a chair in the waiting area and I sat obediently.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. My redhead was texting.

_“Don’t answer this if there’s a dick in any part of your body.”_

“What if my dick is in someone else’s body?”

_“If you can still type you’re doing something wrong.”_

“I’m waiting. He’s still working.”

_“Damn. He has you jumping around and sitting like bitch.”_

“Worth it.” I glanced over at his broad shoulders as he bent over to start tattooing again. Saw the muscle of his bicep flex as he moved and I had to swallow.

“ _My roommate actually went out. The TV’s not on and it’s weird.”_

“Enjoy the quiet.”

_“Snore. I’ll let you get back to bitch duty.”_

It was almost another hour by the time the final tattoos were done and Claude and Sebastian had cleaned up. It was after ten and both men looked exhausted.

“Despite your attitude, you did acceptable work. Thank you for staying late to help me finish,” Claude said.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now I’m gonna get the fuck outta here.” Sebastian grabbed a leather jacket and threw it over his wide shoulders and I took that as my cute to ease toward the door.

Neither of us spoke for a while as we walked. I watched my breath escape in little puffs in from of my face in the cold as I worked to keep up with his long stride.

“So, what now?” I asked finally.

“Well, I want a beer, but I’m not feeling very social after that nightmare of a job…”

“Oh.” Well, damn. That wasn’t what I expected.

“So I thought we could go back to my place.”

“Oh…”

“If that’s alright with you?” he shot me a quick smile as he bent down to unlock the passenger side of a black Mustang, crisp with shining chrome. He held the door open for me.

“This is your car?” I asked, eyebrows lifted in incredulity.

“I couldn’t resist getting something for the road trip when I left the city. It’s a '65 Fastback.”

“It’s fucking sweet, is what it is.”

“Wait until you hear it.” He smiled and walked around to the driver’s side. The growl of the engine cut through the night, making pedestrians on the sidewalk turn to look. “We can take the long way back if you want,” he offered.

“Fuck yeah. Yes, let’s do that.”

His long fingers wrapped around the gear shift, putting the car in gear, and we tore off with a roar of the engine. We speed out of the arts district, out of downtown and off toward the coast, the powerful car pushing me back against the leather seat. The thrill of the powerful car and the focused man driving it was starting to make me hot.

He took a turn at top speed, the car sticking to the road like it was on a track, and I gasped, earning me a smirk from the driver. As we approached the winding road that ran along the coast he punched the gas and took the vehicle even faster, making the engine growl and I reflexively reached out and grabbed his thigh and dug my fingers into the hard flesh.

“Hmm…you like fast cars?” he asked.

“I guess so,” I said, not daring to take my eye off the road or my hand off of him.

He accelerated, taking the turns hard and making me squirm against my seat, clawing at his denim covered leg, kneading the muscle, wondering if the skin was inked.

“Careful or you’re going to make go off the road,” he said but his smirk told me I should keep going.

I slid my hand further up his thigh. I remembered how easily his belt slid from the buckle earlier this afternoon and I started to maneuver it with the one hand. The leather cooperated and with a soft click of the metal.

Coming around the next turn I could see the water, churning and seething in the cold October night like there were serpents just beneath the surface. The water was black, the road was black but my vision was straining to white as he continued to push the car faster. Even as I was forced from side to side as the car clung to the winding road, I managed to pop the button of his jeans. One hand, fingers deft and determined, worked the zipper down and I nearly lost my mind when he raised his hips to rub against my hand. The soft cotton fabric of his boxers was a thin layer between me and the stiffening object of interest. I let my palm rest on the head and wrapped my fingers around the length, mirroring his hand that gripped the gear shift. When I added pressure, squeezing just slightly, the car swerved just enough to kick up some sand on the road side. He growled low in his throat and corrected the wheel. 

It was about that time that we both noticed the blue lights bouncing around in the dark behind us.

“Fuuuuck me,” Sebastian said, slowing the car and pulling carefully to the side of the road.

The car rolled to a stop, the inside filled with the gentle purr of the idling engine. I took my hand back as the officer approached the driver’s window. Sebastian took a deep breath and greeted the officer with a smile.

“Seems like you were going a little fast around that corner,” the officer said. She leaned closer to the window to better see our faces in the dark.

“Sorry about that,” Sebastian said pleasantly.

“Have you been drinking tonight?” She shined her flashlight on his face making him squint.

“Nope. I’m just leaving work actually.”

“You’ve got New York plates on this vehicle. Where are you working?” Ah-ha, she’s got you there, buddy.

“I’m helping a friend out at a gallery in the arts district,” he said. It wasn’t entirely untrue. There was art on the walls. And on the people.

“You’re an artist?” she asked, looking him over.

“Yeah. I have my portfolio in the back if you wanna see.” Mr. Sassy Pants.

It was about this time that the officer seemed to notice that Sebastian’s pants were completely undone, erection still fairly prominent, though still within his boxers, in his lap. I saw her face flush and she swallowed uncomfortably.

“I’m…going to need to see your license and registration, please.”

“Sure thing,” Sebastian said, lifting his hips higher than was strictly necessary to get the wallet out of his back pocket. “Honey, would you grab the registration from the glove box?” He threw me a bright smile.

Stifling the urge to laugh, I opened the little door on the dashboard and retrieved the yellow slip of paper and handed it to the officer, giving her my smile of charm plus five. She spun on her heels and returned to the police car where she sat for at least fifteen minutes, running Sebastian through the computer and who knows what else.  

“Do I get to see your portfolio?” I asked cheekily, biting my lip.

“If I don’t get arrested, sure,” he smiled and leaned in to kiss me quickly on the lips, making my heart go pitter-pat.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Michaelis. Please observe the posted speed in the future. This isn’t New York,” she said as a parting remark, thrusting the license and registration back through the open window.

“I certainly will. Thank you,” he said.

Once the officer was back in her car, Sebastian shifted the Mustang into gear and we slowly pulled back onto the road. Seeing the smile creep across his lips in the dark as he shifted gears and brought the car to a respectable and manageable speed was enough to push me into a fit of hyperventilating laughter.

“Enjoy that?” he asked.

“Oh…my…god…that was brilliant!” I gasped when I could breathe.

“She could have arrested me,” he said.

“For what? Concealing a weapon?” My sense dissolved into more laughter, my eyes watering.

“It’s not all that concealed at the moment.”

“If you want me to apologize for that, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

“Alright, I think this little joy ride is over.”

He turned onto the on ramp of the highway, leaving the waterfront behind us. The muscle car weaved through the light traffic with impressive agility, though I noticed Sebastian kept the speed right at the posted limit. In a few miles we exited into a residential area and he pulled into the driveway of an all dark little cape house.


	10. Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better...

“Looks like no one is home,” I ventured.

“Nope,” he said. He got out of the car and headed for the side door of the house.

“Just you and Bard live here?”

“And his girlfriend.” He opened the door and an overly enthusiastic red-nose pitbull slammed into his legs, making him grunt. “And the dog,” he amended.

The dog continued to wag excitedly and circle the tall man’s legs as he entered the house.

“Byron, this is Ciel. Ciel, meet Byron.”

The dog seemed to have limited interest in me, however, and continued to follow Sebastian around the house as he flipped on lights and riffled through the fridge for two beers. He put one in my hand and then let out a sigh as he took a long sip from his own bottle. He kicked off his shoes and then crouched down to give the dog his full attention for a moment. I began to unlace my tall boots, not wanting to be rude, seeing as this house seemed nice and relatively clean unlike the squalor I called home.

“Your pants are still undone, you know,” I said helpfully.

“That’s because you’re a tease,” he said, standing and shifting his hips, making the loose belt buckle clink. He cocked an eyebrow waiting for my reply.

“Yeah, I am,” I said. A sassy smirk colored my expression and he grabbed my arm and pulled me against his chest.

“I don’t like being teased, Ciel.”

“Um…” I said, thoughtfully. My, his arms were strong.

“It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah…”

“And I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better,” he said, his stupid handsome face directly in front of mine.

I swallowed before answering. “What did you have in mind?”

He sighed. “Well, I would be remiss if I didn’t suggest that you take the bandage off that tattoo and wash it. I don’t want it to get infected.”

“Oh…” why did he keep doing this to me? My dick was getting confused.

He walked out of the kitchen and opened a linen closet, pulling out a clean fluffy towel and then crooking his finger to call me over. “If you hop in the shower it’ll be easier. I’ll grab you a clean t-shirt and get a movie ready for when you come out.”

He started to walk away, giving me a full view of the still unbuttoned jeans riding ever lower on his hips, and I had had enough. “Yeah, that’s not happening,” I said and pulled him into the bathroom and closed the door.

He looked at me in shock for just a moment until I grabbed his face and pulled it down to reach my own. I backed him up against the door with an ungraceful thud and gave him the kiss I had wanted to give him since we were so unfortunately interrupted that afternoon. Despite the fact that I felt like I was climbing a tree, his chest and shoulders were so solid and huge, he was completely submissive to my advances. He let my tongue invade his mouth and thrash against his; sucking on it greedily like I had never had the chance to kiss before.

When I finally pulled back, we were both panting for breath. His eyes were half-lidded and slightly unfocused as he looked at me. “I still think you need to take the bandage off…” he said.

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking fine, I get it. I’ll take a shower, but you’re coming in with me.” I dropped my sweatshirt on the floor and gingerly pulled off my t-shirt, hissing a little when it pulled against the raw skin I had been ignoring for the last few hours. Sebastian helped to pull the shirt over my head then glanced down at my now naked torso. His eyes slowly moved back up to my face.

I slid my eye patch off and carefully set it on the sink, keeping the ruined eye closed. There was no change in his expression as he looked at me.

I pulled on the bottom of his shirt and slid my hands under it to touch his stomach. It was so flat and tight that I felt slightly confused as I let my fingers trace the edges of the muscle there. Was he even real? He kept his eyes on me and pulled the shirt off with an easy shrug. The bathroom suddenly seemed smaller when I saw his naked chest and wide shoulders against the white wooden doorway. And was it getting warmer in here?

He was tattooed with a Japanese-style body suit, his arms, shoulders and chest covered in swirls of color. The ink stopped right at the middle of each bicep and was also absent along the center of his chest and down his ridiculous stomach to where the smallest trace of dark hair peaked up from the top of his boxers. I traced the water-like pattern that lay across his pectorals and across his shoulders, wanting more than anything to run my tongue against that skin to see what it tasted like.

Before I could indulge my curiosity, he began to pick at the edge of first aid tape that held the sweating plastic wrap on my shoulder. I turned and allowed him to administer to me, though my entire body was screaming at me to climb the idiot like a fucking tree.

When he leaned down to throw the bandage into the trash, I tried to steal another kiss, but he grabbed my jaw with a firm hand, stopping me inches away from his already reddened lips. “You’ll do what I say before you ruin the fucking thing,” he admonished. With a flick he turned on the water in the shower, still holding my face, tested the water and then looked back at me. “Pants,” he commanded.

“Yes, sir.” I couldn’t get my stupid belt off fast enough. The jeans were loose on my skinny hips so I could just wiggle out of them. I wore no underwear. There was no exciting reveal as my boner-of-the-century leapt into the room at full mast.

Sebastian said nothing, but the tilt of his eyebrow said that he wasn’t disappointed with the show. “In,” he said, pointing to the running shower. I climbed in over the edge of the tub, receiving a stinging slap on my bare ass that made me yip in surprise.

I heard Sebastian chuckle to himself. The belt and heavy fabric of the jeans hit the tile floor. I had to close my eyes for a second under the warm stream of water, grabbing my dick and giving it squeeze. He was about to be in this tiny shower with me and I didn’t know if I could stand it.

The shower curtain slid back and I waited, eyes still closed, until I felt his huge hands land softly on my shoulders. This gentle touch was followed by a kiss to my throat which was enough to make my eyes snap open and my body back into his until he grunted and wrapped his arms around me. The cock that I had almost freed twice today was now pressed firmly against my lower back, hot and slick from the water that was pouring over us.

“You feel so good,” he moaned into my ear. “I want to eat you alive.”

“I wish you would,” I said. I lifted my hips enough for the top of my ass to rub against him and he started to grind against me slowly. When one of his thick paws landed on my hip and pulled me more firmly against him, I almost came on the spot. I had to steady my breathing and just focus on keeping my balance as I was roughly pulled. I hadn’t ever been with a lover that was strong enough to throw me around before, but it was certainly a turn on when he was as sweet as this fucking giant threatening to split me in two.   

When I couldn’t take being teased any more, I spun around in his grasp so I could face him, my lips latching on to his like they were magnetized. My hands squeezed his arms and shoulders, kneaded his chest and sides before finding the firm curve of his perfect ass and digging into the flesh. He groaned into my mouth and pressed his cock into my stomach, reminding me how badly I needed to touch it before it impaled me by accident. I wrapped a hand around its thick shaft and squeezed, looking up to see his face as I began to work my hand between our bodies.

“I can’t even stand how gorgeous you are,” he said through clenched teeth.

My palm caught the liquid collecting at the tip of his cock and slid it down the length of him, smiling to see him coming undone so quickly. The muscles of his arms tensed around me and his breath was coming in shorter gasps.

I couldn’t take the agony of his suffering any longer and started to lick a trail straight down his chest, following the line of ink-free skin. I deviated from my goal when I reached the devastating “V” of muscle that flanked his hip bones. I had to explore it with my mouth and teeth, making him hiss when I scrapped the bone. I apologized by licking the length of his cock with a flat, eager tongue, settling in on my knees to do some serious work. He was bigger than I was used to, but I wanted to devour him whole and took no time wondering if it was possible.

“Ah…Ciel!” He dug one hand into my hair and braced the other against the wall of the shower. “Your mouth…” but the rest of the thought devolved into incoherent sounds as I rolled his head against my tongue. After a few tentative strokes I pushed my mouth down onto him as far as I could go, my eyes watering, my throat swallowing, trying to take the whole thing in. His hand was clawing at the shower wall, trying to find something solid to hold onto as I slowly pulled away, only to try to swallow him again with more determination.

“How are you doing…mmph…Ci…how…fuck…ah…”

I worked all of my frustration and stress from the day into my movement and devoured him like it was my job, finding my rhythm somewhere between choking to death and thinking that I found God on my knees at the bottom of a strange shower.

His hand brushed my hair back from my face and he met my eye for a quick second before I felt him hesitate. “I’m…fuck…I’m going to…”

I redoubled my efforts and took his cock as far down my throat as it could go and swallowed against the monstrous thing, moaning because it felt so fucking good in my mouth. He shot his load into the back of my throat and it was so hot and salty that I relished every swallow, sucking until I could taste it no more and his hands began to insistently pull me back.

The gentle giant looked slightly dazed as I gazed up at him from where I still knelt. I smiled when our gaze locked again and he seemed to come back to himself. He offered a hand and pulled me to my feet and then pulled me in for a kiss. Before I could get too worked up again, he was carefully washing my tender tattoo with a little soap, inspecting it carefully.

“Out of the water. Now,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” I said. I got out of the tub and he turned off the water. Seconds later he was wrapping me in a fluffy towel and ushering me out of the steamy bathroom. I was about to comment on the fact that I wasn’t nearly done with this project when I caught eyes with Bard who was just setting a bag of groceries down in the kitchen.

“Well, well, fucking well,” he said, looking from me to Sebastian and the water dripping onto the floor. “You two are getting along well, I take it?”

“I thought you worked until 12 tonight?” Sebastian said, irritation plain in his tone.

“What time do you think it is? Did you lose all track while you were in there wasting water?” Bard said, slipping into dad-mode.

“You know, I’ve just about had it with people telling me what to do today,” Sebastian growled. “Ciel, go to my room,” he ordered. I jumped to obey, but realized that I didn’t know where to go.

Bard sighed. “Up the stairs and to the right,” he said.

I retreated quickly to the stairs; clutching my towel around my nakedness, and let the roommates hash out whatever it was that needed hashing.


	11. Jim Macken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I woke up when he crawled into my bed and began to pull off my clothes, one hand clamped over my mouth. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he kissed my throat.

The stairs led only to two rooms. The door to the left was open and I could see what looked like music gear and DJ equipment in the dark. I pushed open the other door and went into Sebastian’s room. It was neat and rather sparse, which made sense if he has only come here with the car and whatever belongings fit in it. There was a single dresser with a mirror above it, a gym bag tucked beside it and a bed covered with a black comforter and mounds of pillows. I dropped my towel on the floor and hopped up on the bed.

I could hear the deep voices arguing back and forth downstairs, taking note that sounds carried really well up the staircase. It seemed as though Sebastian was getting more pissed as I listened, but I wasn’t hearing any particular words. The bed was comfortable and I was starting to feel more tired as I lay there, my hope of getting any sort of follow up action seeming to dwindle with every passing minute.   

I must have finally fallen asleep because the next thing I was aware of was being covered with a strange smelling blanket and feeling the warmth of someone else in bed. It was confusing for a moment until my sleepy brain processed the events of the day that resulted in my current predicament.

Sebastian seemed completely dead to the world. I considered getting up but realized that my clothes were still downstairs. As was my eye patch. Somehow I had completely let my guard down with this man I hardly even knew.

Your dick is making you stupid, Ciel. And you didn’t even get any head after all that.

I sighed and rolled over to fit my back comfortably against Sebastian’s warm body. In his sleep he adjusted to accommodate me, holding me against his solid chest with and equally impressive arm.

My brain taunted me, dared me to feel panic, but my body eased into the comfort of being with the man who somehow made me feel safe and I started to settle back into sleep.

It must have been this situation, because my dreaming brain threw me right into the worst nightmare of my life. So unbelievably unfair when all I wanted was to be as blissfully happy as I knew Sebastian had the potential to make me.

I was asleep in my own bed in the apartment in Montreal. It was that kind of quiet night that can only happen during a heavy snowfall and I was situated so comfortably and warmly in my bed clothes that I was akin to a hibernating animal. A fox, curled up in the warm dark burrow that was my own room.

It was my first time living on my own after getting out of foster care and I had moved in with another system kid, slightly older and seemingly very worldly with his cynical attitude. It was the perfect fit. We shared the same experience of being parentless, angry young adults. We both had a predisposition toward dark clothing, loud, moody music and movies with lots of gore. Only, Jim Macken also had a predisposition toward drinking and drugs.

I didn’t care. It made him seem cooler somehow to my immature brain when he would come home early in the morning after a night out doing various unspeakable things that he would invariably tell me about in great detail. Predictably, ecstasy was a favorite chemical and he loved to kiss and hug me when he was rolling. And I, of course, loved his attention. Craved it, actually. I was willing to suffer humiliation at his sick whims to get it. He loved to make me feel foolish and loved to be able to talk down to me, to feel like he was somehow better even though we were both discarded pieces of human trash.

But I think there was something else in his drug-induced pawing. I think he did want me, maybe even envied me somehow, even as he made fun of me while I practiced my violin.

Living with Jim Macken was like living with a caged animal. Viewing him from a distance, on the opposite side of the bars, he was beautiful and fascinating with his platinum blond hair and jewel-like blue eyes. He was the center of attention in every room he walked into, and if he wasn’t, he made no hesitation in creating a big enough scene to become it. When he was sweet, he seemed tame and I wanted nothing more than to have his love and approval. But that was a rare occurrence and I spent more time recovering from the various hurts he thrust at me with the skill of a master sword fighter. Our relationship was a sickness that defied definition, but I clung to it because it was all I had. I withstood the abuse because it was all I knew.

Every attempt at making new friends or finding romantic partners was overshadowed by Jim and his circus of insanity that I lived in every day.

I thought I had reached normal a few times with a few different people-one was even a girl-but it would never last once Jim got his claws out. Looking at it now, I can see how trapped I was, but at the time I even felt as though he protected me. Like a big brother.

That night had been much the same as any other. Jim had demanded that I go out with him and his friends, but this time I declined and stayed home for some quiet time to work on my music. He was angry and abusive but I was able to ignore him until he finally left me alone.

In the dark early morning he came crashing into the apartment, fucked up on something vile. I woke up when he crawled into my bed and began to pull off my clothes, one hand clamped over my mouth. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he kissed my throat.

As much as I was horrified and even frightened by this uninvited attack, part of me wanted it, wanted to know what it would feel like to give in and let him fuck me in whatever state he was in. To hell with the consequences. But I fought and eventually threw him off with an explosion of anger and adrenaline.

Before I could get myself untangled from the bed clothes, he was on me again, but now instead of sex he was intent on hurting me.

Jim was a skinny thing, but so was I and he had height and strength on me. He pinned me to the bed, sitting on my hips with my arms held down by his knees. His hands were free to do their evil, but rather than undressing me or groping my shivering body, he extended two fingers and drove them into my right eye.

The pain was a burst of white heat in my skull. All thoughts stopped as I screamed every bit of air from my lungs while he laughed. He laughed as he pushed his digits into my eye socket.

What happened after that is unclear. There was so much blood. It was on my hands and chest. My bed was sticky with it and my face was an aching mass of fire and pain. Somehow I staggered out to the living room and had the presence of mind to use the phone for help. I didn’t dare to touch my face or look in the mirror, but I saw horror reflected back at me in the faces of the paramedics when they arrived and found me.

Jim was nowhere to be found. There was a note pinned to the bathroom wall, just beside the mirror, with a kitchen knife, bloody as the finger prints left he left around the apartment with a scribbled message: “when you look in the mirror you’ll see that you’re still mine.”

I left Montreal shortly after I was released from the hospital. That laugh was what kept me up at night and what woke me with a violent jolt as Sebastian leaned over to place a kiss on my bare shoulder upon waking up beside me.

“No!” I shouted, scrambling up and away.

“What?” he blinked at me, still half asleep.

My heart was pounding in my chest, but I quickly made sense of the situation and forced my body to relax.

“Sorry. It’s nothing. I was just still dreaming.”

“Sure?” he asked. The slightest bit of concern knotted his dark eyebrows.

“Yeah,” I said and snuggled back against his chest.

“Yesterday was a fucking mess. It’s not at all how I wanted this to go,” he said.

“Oh.” Well, that could mean a few things.

“I expected to have time to hang out and get to know each other.” He waited a second, but when I didn’t respond he continued. “But instead I’ve just made you wait around for me, bring me food and see me get pissed at everyone for being assholes.”

“I didn’t mind,” I said. “And this is nice.” I let my eyes close and relished the warmth of him against me.

“I still want to make it up to you,” he said.

“Is everything alright between you and Bard?” I asked as I started to hover in that sweet place between awake and asleep.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just some male posturing.”

“Canadians don’t do that.”

He laughed. “Well, kids from Brooklyn do. Hey…don’t fall asleep on me. I want to hear more about you. You still haven’t told me much.” He propped himself up on an elbow to look at me but I kept my eyes closed.

“Nothing to tell,” I mumbled.

“You got family here?”

“No family.”

“In Canada?”

“None. I’m a system kid. No parents, no siblings.” I sighed, regretting opening my mouth when I had been so comfortable laying there. I didn’t want him to be weirded-out, or worse, to feel sorry for me.

“Same here. Though I skipped the foster system and bounced around with my older friends until I was old enough to be on my own,” he admitted.

“Oh.” Well, that was somewhat unexpected.

“It’s ok, you know.”

“I know. It’s fine,” I said. Maybe a little harshly.

“Ok. I get it.”

He kissed my bare shoulder, the same gesture that had set me off earlier, I noted, and got his ridiculously fine ass up out of bed. I couldn’t help myself and had to turn and look. He was still undressed. My God, Ciel. You had that naked body next to you all night and you’re acting like a moody bitch.

His broad back was completely tattooed from his shoulders down across his perfectly-shaped ass and the backs of his thighs. The face of a demon with burning red eyes and fierce fangs rode out of artful swirls of smoke and flames. It was dark and beautiful and incredibly sexy.

“What are you, fucking Yakuza or something?” I said before I could stop myself.

“That’s cute,” he said. He pulled a shirt over his head blocking my gorgeous view.

Shit, I was completely fucking this up. I shouldn’t be an ass to someone I actually liked. He pulled on a pair of jeans and headed out into the hall.

“Hey…” I said weakly.

And I still had no clothing. I got up and took a tentative look in the drawer he had taken the t-shirt from. Of course when I pulled one on it was huge on me, but it covered me well enough to go down the stairs to see if I could find my clothes.

Bard was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee while Sebastian dug around in the fridge. Byron had situated himself right in the middle of kitchen floor and sprawled out like only a dog can. I didn’t see any sign of a girlfriend and took a chance and ran for the bathroom.

“Check out the hot piece of ass,” I heard Bard say as I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me.

Dressed and somewhat put together, eye patch back in place, I wandered back to the kitchen. Sebastian set a plate down on the table and looked at me.

“Do you eat?” Sebastian asked.

“On occasion,” I said and looked at the omelet.

“I’ve seen him drink booze but I think he’s too skinny to actually eat real food.”

Sebastian went back to the stove without a word and Bard gave me a curious look.  I sat down and looked at the plate of food. It looked good and I almost would have felt hungry if I hadn’t felt so awkward.

“I bet he’s a coffee drinker, though,” Bard ventured.

Sebastian poured coffee into a mug and placed it on the table next to the plate. Bard lifted his eyebrows and took a drag from his cigarette. I sipped the coffee and watched Sebastian, wondering what to say to dig my way out of this static. Bard broke the silence.

“So, what’s with the eye patch?” he asked leaning back in his chair.

“Bard,” Sebastian warned.

“I’m just curious. I noticed last night you had it off but your eye was shut.”

“It’s fucked up. I can’t see with it.” I said.

“Lemme see,” Bard said.

“Bard!” Sebastian barked.

“What? I’m just asking. He can tell me to fuck off if he wants.”

“It’s fine,” I said. I flipped the eye patch up and blinked my eyes a few time, letting the milky eye come into view. Bard took in the sight without any squeamishness.

“Huh,” Bard said. “How’d you do that?”

“Baldroy, I’m serious. Shut your fucking mouth.” Sebastian came over to the table and sat beside me with his own plate of food.

Bard extinguished his cigarette and got up from the table. “Well, Kiddies, I’ve got work. Behave yourselves. Byron, you’re in charge.” Byron gave a lazy wag as he watched Bard leave the kitchen.

When I looked back to the table, Sebastian had already eaten half of his food. I decided to try a forkful of eggs and found them to be pretty good. Sebastian seemed pleased that I was eating, though we continued to sit in silence while I wracked my brain to figure out how to fix this.

“You don’t have to humor him,” Sebastian said. It took me a moment to realize he meant Bard. “He can be an asshole sometimes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s fine. I’m not ashamed of my eye.”

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asked his mostly empty plate. Still not looking at me.

“No,” I said. “I thought you had things to make up to me.”


	12. Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can be a prick sometimes.

The day was overcast and the bursts of orange and crimson leaves that were left clinging to the trees were a bold contrast to the gray of the sky. The air was cold enough that I was snuggled inside of my sweatshirt with the hood pulled over my head as Sebastian drove us toward the coastal road. He made a point of taking a few curves quick, letting the muscle car’s tires grip the road and making me laugh nervously and squeeze his hand.

Sebastian eased the car through the empty gravel lot and into a parking spot that faced the turbulent water. We sat in silence for a moment, watching the waves and feeling the frigid air as it closed in around us until he turned to look at me. I could feel his eyes scanning my face and wondered like mad what he could possibly be thinking. He had been quiet since our awkward morning waking up together. I wanted nothing more than to meet his gaze, but I made myself wait a moment and think. I couldn’t keep fucking this up.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he said quietly.

“Heh…oh,” said the idiot in the passenger seat.

“I’m not used to you yet.  Are you alright?”

I sat silently for a moment, confused by the question. Was I alright? I didn’t even know. “I guess I’m not used to you yet either. But I’m alright,” I said finally.

“You’ll tell me, yeah? If I make you uncomfortable?”

I felt myself climbing out of my seat before I even knew what I was doing and with a clumsy crack of my knee against the gear shift, I had my knees on either side of his waist, sitting myself squarely in his lap. I put my hands on his shoulders and looked at him from three inches away. 

“I’m fairly comfortable,” I said, wiggling my hips to help illustrate my point.

“Aaah…mmm…” Sebastian’s hands shot to my waist, lifting me gently to ease the pressure on the growing stiffness in his pants.

“Did you want to tell me more about how pretty I am?” I asked, placing a kiss along the sharp line of his jaw.

Instead of speaking he turned my face so he could place his lips to mine. This was no gentle kiss. His mouth was hungry to find mine, pulling at my lips and tongue with a fierce need that surprised me after all of his cautious words. I gave in and submitted completely, letting him search my mouth, sucking on my tongue in a way that made my hips rock as I moaned against him. We were both breathing hard when his lips finally pulled away.

“Still comfortable?” he asked. He teased me by nipping at my bottom lip.

I leaned closer so I could whisper against his throat, licking a wet trail up to his ear. “Yes, still comfortable. Aside from this…massive…hard-on…”

 I felt him swallow and it enticed me to sink my teeth into his throat, just gently and just below his obsession inducing jaw. It was then that there came a sharp tapping on the driver’s window.  Sebastian moved only his eyes to look, not daring, or maybe not wanting to pull away from my teeth.  I didn’t turn to look and kept the warm flesh clamped tightly, rolling my tongue against its captured surface.

Sebastian rolled the window down slightly, enough that a rush of cold air streamed into the car and I could hear someone’s shoes crunching on the gravel outside.

“Yeah?” I could feel his voice rumble against my mouth and it made me bite down harder. “Mphm…can I help you?” he asked the intruder.

“This is a public park, sir,” a gruff voice intoned.

“What’s the problem?”

“Why don’t you just take your girlfriend home and we can both get on with our day.”

The comment made me drop my delicious mouthful of flesh and turn my head to see the speaker. He was an older guy, dressed in a park ranger’s uniform and obviously had nothing better to do than harass one of the only two cars in the parking lot on a gloomy Sunday afternoon.

“Well,” Sebastian said curtly. “My _boyfriend_ and I are in the middle of something here.”

I gave the man a sweet smile as he looked uncomfortably through the car window.

“Um…you’re still going to have to move along or break it up, please,” he said turning a deep shade of red.

“Fine. Now get away from my car, please,” Sebastian grumbled shooing the ranger back from the chrome and shining black paint.    

The ranger acquiesced, though not without giving the air of a body that was ready to give us more grief if only we gave him a reason.

I started to move back to my seat, but a set of firm hands held my hips.

“I didn’t say you could move, did I?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I said, falling into the submissive role that was starting to make me crazy for this giant of a man.

“Kiss me,” he ordered. It wasn’t a difficult chore to accomplish and I fell on his mouth again as if we hadn’t ever been interrupted. My tongue slid over his like it was made for this purpose.

I pulled away when I realized I was lightheaded from neglecting to breathe and stayed panting with my lips resting by his ear. The way his large hands help my hips was enough to melt my mind. I felt like with little effort he could squeeze until his finger tips touched.

“Did you just call me your boyfriend?” I asked, my brain finally catching up.

“You are kinda riding my dick at the moment.”

“Touché.”

I contemplated the smooth skin and dark hair against my cheek for a moment, tried to memorize the smell of him. Just feeling his breath against my skin was nearly enough to make me forget my surroundings, but I still had a nagging sense of unease.  

“I feel like we’re being watched,” I said.

“That fucking perve. Has nothing better to do,” Sebastian fumed. I could feel his muscles tense under me as he turned slightly to look out the window.

“Do you want to leave?” I asked.

“No, let’s stay. It’ll annoy that prick.”

Sebastian opened the car door and helped me as I gracelessly dismounted from his lap. I didn’t quite stick the landing and he laughed as I stumbled to an ambulatory position, kicking a spray of gravel in my wake. As we began walking along the path that would lead us along the water, he kept my hand clasped in his and I felt something tighten in my chest.

“So, how else will you be making this first date up to me? We’ve already been yelled at by two municipal employees, your roommate AND your boss and also interrupted every time we’ve tried to make out.” Why do I have to say shit like that? I was feeling pretty good until that comment left my foul mouth.

“This is pretty much the worst, isn’t it? And Claude isn’t my fucking boss.”

“I’m not complaining. I think I would enjoy doing just about anything with you,” I said, trying to recover.

“Yeah?” he looked so serious that I couldn’t help myself.

“I wouldn’t want to suffer reprisal from the Yakuza for saying differently. I don’t know if this is some weird hazing ritual or what, but it certainly has been interesting.”

“You can be a prick sometimes. I already feel bad about it. I wish I knew how to fix it. I’d take you to dinner but apparently you don’t eat.”

I laughed. We walked in silence for a while, his hand still linked to mine.

“Do you still play violin?” he asked out of nowhere. He was obviously down some dark rabbit hole of thought.

“Oh. Yeah, I do,” I admitted.

“Do you play out ever? I’m not sure what the classical music version of a gig is.”

“Still a gig, I suppose. No, I don’t perform anymore.”

“Do you think you’d play for me sometime?”

“It’s not that exciting.”

“I don’t know how that could be true,” he said but left it at that.

Sebastian dropped me back at my apartment with a small container of ointment for my healing tattoo and his phone number now safely added to my phone. I walked up to my set of rooms in a complete daze thinking of everything that had happened since I left them the previous afternoon.

My phone pinged with a text message while I still stood in the doorway looking vacantly at my empty apartment.

_“I think I’ll take you to dinner anyway. You can watch me eat. Tomorrow?”_

I smiled. How the hell did I get this lucky?


	13. Don't Be Like That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sex first…then dating? Is this how you boys operate?”

Monday was like an open canker sore on my soul. It was raw and stinging and horrible as I hauled my carcass to the office where I would go sit in a box for the next eight hours. I armed myself with huge mug of coffee and put on my headphones for the short, cold walk to work. The only consolation I had was seeing Mey-Rin’s pretty face when I got there.

“You piece of shit,” she exploded the second I emerged from the elevator. Several office drones turned to look, but management was not present and the ripples quickly subsided.

“Baby, let me explain…” I started only to be violently struck about my delicate head and shoulders.

“Don’t you _baby_ me! Bard told me what happened! I want details. Now!”

“Mey-Rin, I believe you’re supposed to be on the phones at 8 o’clock,” said a stern voice belonging to a pinched face that came out of nowhere to scowl at us.

“I’m on my way,” Mey-Rin replied, giving me a glare of death as she took her _Walking Dead_ coffee mug and retreated back to her cell block. The manager gave me a look that said it was time for me to move along to my end of the floor before she fired an email off to my supervisor. I lifted my chin defiantly, but shuffled along like the kicked dog that I was.

By the time I got to my own desk I had a text message from the petite fury. 

_“Seriously getting tired of your shit, Phantomhive.”_

“Aww, baby. Don’t be like that.”

_“Spill.”_

I wasn’t even sure where to begin. What even happened over the last 48 hours? My head was positively spinning. I turned on my computer and pretended to check my email as I pondered what to write back. I should probably find out what she knows before I incriminate myself.

“What did Bard tell you?”

_“That there was naked shower time and you stayed over. Also some kind of awkward breakfast?”_

That was oddly accurate. I made a face at my phone as I tried to think of what to type.

“Sebastian is kind of amazing.” What else could I possibly convey over this annoying brief and ineffectual method of communication?

_“So…you’re getting married now?”_

“We’re having dinner tonight.”

_“Sex first…then dating? Is this how you boys operate?”_

“Yeah. No. There wasn’t any.” Well…not exactly. God, that shower will be filed away for inspiration for the rest of my life.

_“You’re killing me.”_

“Bard broke up the party. Not sure who’s the bigger boner killer between him and Claude.”

_“But..naked? Shower? Boys?”_

“It’s all too much for you, isn’t it?”

_“A bit.”_

“He’s got a full-body tattoo.”

_“…”_

“And abs that would make Batman jealous.”

_“I’m not sure I can handle this while I’m at work. I’m feeling flustered.”_

“How was the rest of your weekend?”

_“Meh. Finn was working until late Saturday and had to work brunch Sunday. We only hung out for a few hours before he was exhausted.”_

“Poor little guy.”

_“I’ll make up for it.”_

“I’m sure you will.”

_“Lizzy is appalled that I had two different guys over in two days.”_

“You whore.”

_“Supply closet?”_

“I’ll meet you there at 10.”

When I took my coffee break at 10, I lingered by the coffee machine until I saw my redhead open the supply closet door and step inside. I darted my gaze around and then followed her, closing the door silently.

“I’m totally dying,” she whispered. “Tell me everything.”

I took a deep breath and tried not to grin like an idiot. “He’s quite possibly the hottest and sweetest man I’ve ever met. Things did get a little weird though.”

“But you slept together?” She asked, settling in to sit on a box of copy paper and watching me with rapt attention.

“In the same bed, yeah. Basically he made me shower…”

“Woah…what?”

“Well, he wanted me to clean the tattoo so it would heal properly. He suggested I shower to make it easier and I suggested he join me…”

“Shit. That’s hot.”

“I know, but before things got too interesting Bard showed up. I fell asleep in Sebastian’s room while they were duking it out.”

“What like fighting? That’s kind of hot too.”

“Well, yeah. It was a total testosterone fest, obviously. And Sebastian was just in a towel.”

“Goddamnit, Ciel.” Mey-Rin waived my comment away with an annoyed gesture. “What else happened? What about the ‘awkward breakfast’ that Bard was talking about?” she fanned herself with a file folder and tried to recover. Outside of the supply closet I could hear office drones talking about mundane bullshit by the coffee maker. I said a silent prayer to the office gods that no one would burst through the door looking for sticky notes and interrupt our conversation.

“Bard helped make that happen. He kept asking questions about my eye until I showed it to him.”

“What an idiot!” she shook her head. “Well, what did happen to your eye?”

I gave her a look that made her blush but she didn’t relent. “I mean, you brought it up! I’m not trying to pry. I wanted to ask when I did your zombie makeup but …”

“God, you’re just as bad as he is. I got in a fight, alright? Some kid poked my eye and I went blind in it.” I reflexively clenched the eye shut behind my patch. Sometimes I thought I could feel a twinge of pain, a ghost of fingers stabbing into my skull. I pushed the sensation away and focused on the cute girl with the short skirt that was riding up her office-appropriate, black-nylon-clad thighs.

“That’s kinda badass. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to tell everyone that.” Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, obviously taking in the freakshow that was my face.

“Can we change the subject? Tell me about blondie.”

“What’s there to tell? He’s basically the best lay I’ve ever had and a sweetheart to boot. It just sucks that he’s always working and we have sort of opposite schedules.”

“This job blows. Why are we here?” I lamented. The towers of copy paper seemed to close in around me as I looked around the dusty little room. It was hot from the photocopier and smelled like toner and stale coffee. People outside of the door were laughing loudly about something tedious and the sound was crushing my spirit.

“Um…because we get a paycheck? What else should we be doing?”

“Ugh, so boring. I don’t know. Anything.”

“When you figure that out, let me know. In the meantime, I should get back on the phones before bitch-tits comes looking for me again.”

“Hey, so is there a theme for Plague this week?” I asked, trying desperately to latch on to any bit of fun that might distract me.  

“No theme this week. Just dance and DJs. But next week Jesse and I are working on something fun.” She grinned a wicked grin that let me know that more zombie Barbie time was in my future.


	14. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t really know what to expect when I first met you. I wasn’t planning on liking you this much,” he said.

“I thought about it for a while and tried to imagine what you might actually enjoy eating,” Sebastian said as his ridiculously loud car pulled away from the curb in front of my apartment building. The night was dark with a fine cold mist blanketing the road, making the pavement gleam in the headlights. I had thrown a black sweater over my white dress shirt, leaving the shirttails untucked over my black jeans. A pair of worn out black and white Chuck Taylor’s completed the monochromatic look. 

“What was your conclusion?” I looked over at his smooth profile in the dark car and marveled that not only was he taking me out but he had been thinking of me during the day. What had I done to merit this sort of attention?

“Thai food. I know it’s a little risky, but I had a feeling you might like spicy food.”

“Interesting theory. What evidence are you presenting to make your case?” I kept my expression neutral and made him work a bit to earn my reaction.

“Well,” he began, glancing at me before merging onto the highway on –ramp. “Heavy food is out of the question, so nothing Italian. Mexican is likewise too heavy. I know you’re not a big eater. I did consider pizza, but that’s so pedestrian and not really a date food.”

“Sound logic so far,” I praised.

“Chinese could work, but it can also be a bit much with some of those fried dishes.”

“Did you consider Japanese?” I asked.

“Of course. But who suggests sushi on a first date with no prior knowledge of dietary preferences?”

“Go on.”

“So, I arrived at Thai,” he concluded proudly.

“But that doesn’t explain why you think I would like spicy food.”

He glanced at me for a moment, a playful smile on his lips. “I’ve tasted your mouth.”

“So, I taste spicy, is that what you’re telling me?”

“And sweet.”

“Hmm.” I pretended to consider the evidence. “I will allow you to feed me this Thai food, but I make no promises.”

“Promise to what, exactly?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow curiously.

“Why, I do believe you are trying to flirt with me, Mr. Michaelis,” I said with a faked Southern drawl.

“At least you caught on this time,” he shot back.

“Your plan is to feed me spicy food and make thinly veiled sexual references, is that it?”

“Essentially. Are you charmed yet?”

We rolled onto the quiet main street of another seaside town; its shops darkened this late in the season, the tourists gone home. The ocean air was wet and alive coming in through the cracked car window while Sebastian took a contented drag from his cigarette. Smoke and salt combined to intoxicate me, making me feel as though there was some enchantment around the next bend. Or was it the company making my heart beat faster?

The restaurant was one of a few buildings that looked like it was still open for business. Its modest façade was lit with a colorful neon sign that advertised authentic Thai food and tropical cocktails. My good eye perked up at the hint that there could be fruity drinks in my future. Even if the food was questionable, at least I could have a few drinks and stare at this creature for an hour or so.  Sebastian pulled the car easily into a parking space, one of only three cars in the lot, and killed the engine. He glanced over at me and smiled in the dark, quiet of the car. The leather of his heavy jacket creaked softly as he moved. Light struck the angles of his face, bisecting it into stark white and deep shadow, enhancing the sharpness of his jaw. I watched as he swallowed and realized I must be staring and moved my gaze up to his eyes.

“Shall we?” Sebastian asked.

I hesitated, waiting for him to move first, locked into those strange eyes.

“I’ll buy you a drink,” he said.

“Just one?”

“Two drinks, then. But that’s all.”

“Alright,” I agreed.

We were seated at a table and I had my first brightly colored, sickly sweet drink before me, complete with an umbrella and a cherry. Sebastian had an iced tea, explaining that he didn’t drink when he had his car. He reached over and stole the cherry out of the glass, giving me a cheeky smile as he popped it into his mouth.

“That seems like another thinly veiled sexual reference,” I commented, wrapping my lips around the straw and taking a drink while I watched him.

“Really?” he smiled, watching me with a raised eyebrow. “Did you figure out what you’d like to eat?”

“I thought I’d leave it entirely to you since you’ve put so much thought into this. “

“That’s a bit of pressure. Do you trust me that much?”

“I’ve trusted you this far, haven’t I?”

Sebastian ordered for both of us and we sat in a comfortable silence for a moment as we waited for our meals to arrive.

“I didn’t really know what to expect when I first met you. I wasn’t planning on liking you this much,” he said. He had a curious look on his face as though he were trying to unravel his own thoughts.

“What exactly does that mean?” My tone was a little defensive, but I tried to keep my expression neutral.

“It means that I like you,” he said.

“And what does that mean?”

He sighed, resting his elbows on the table and leaning closer to me. “It means that not only do I find you attractive, you’re also interesting and charming.  And hot as hell.”

My face immediately caught fire and I choked on my drink, covering my mouth and coughing loudly. One of the other couples in the restaurant turned to look. Surely this was proof that he was wrong in his assessment of me. After another moment I was able to compose myself.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few weeks working with Claude, so I wanted to be upfront with you.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, when I could speak.

“I seem to make you uncomfortable,” Sebastian said, obviously still impressed with how red my face had gotten. I sucked down another few mouthfuls of my drink, letting the alcohol soothe my nerves and rebuild my waning confidence.

“I make myself uncomfortable. Don’t worry about it.”

Sebastian watched while I ate an entire plate of spicy noodles and made sure that I had a full drink at all times during our dinner conversation. The food was actually pretty good and I was pleased with the dish selections Sebastian had made and tried a little bit of everything.  I was warm and contently full of food and lightly buzzed as we made our way back into the city.

The car pulled up to the curb outside of my apartment building and idled noisily. I looked over to Sebastian and he looked back with a smile. I waited for a moment and when he said nothing, and kept the car running, my mouth started to leak.

“Aren’t you going to come up?” I asked.

“That apartment is tiny. I’d never fit,” he said.

I rolled my eye and waited. When he still didn’t move or indicate that he was kidding, I prodded again.

“Seriously? You’re just going to kick me out on the curb?”

“There’s no way I’m leaving my car parked here overnight. This neighborhood is sketchier than you are.”

I let the insult slide. “No one said you had to leave it here that long. Just for a little while,” I pouted.

“You’re insane if you think I could only stay for a little while.” The comment was mischievous enough, but the smirk and the look in his eyes as he said it melted me into a pool of quivering idiot right in my seat.

“Oh.”

He leaned over to kiss my cheek but thought better of it at the last moment. His long fingers caught my chin and held my face so he could kiss me properly; warm lips and sweet taste of exotic spices lingered in his mouth.

 “Now get out of my car. Please.”

In a bit of a daze, I did as I was instructed with a quiet “Yes, sir,” as I glanced back at the pair of red-brown eyes that would haunt my dreams that night.


	15. Just Dance

Friday was ‘Just Dance’ but Mey-Rin still insisted that I go home with her after work to get ready. Five o’clock found me jostling along in the passenger seat of the Toyota while _Ministry_ blared from the maxed out speakers.

“Oh my god! This one again, Mey-Rin? I thought you were with the blond guy,” Mey-Rin’s roommate squawked from the sofa as we came into view.

“I like to keep my options open. You should try it.”

Lizzy gave me an appraising look as if she were actually considering the suggestion, but Mey-Rin shut her down with female agility.

“Tsk…not with mine. Go get your own!” She grabbed me roughly and pushed me into her room and slammed the door. “Honestly, that girl need to reassess her priorities. She’s too worried about what I’m doing.”

“Maybe she cares about you?” I ventured, ducking as the redhead swung an open hand at the side of my head. “Jesus! Alright, she’s an asshole who hates you. Is that better?”

“Eh, she’s alright,” she admitted, switching gears as easily as a brand new bike. “What are we going to wear tonight?” she asked clapping her hands and bouncing on her heels.

“I know you love to think so, but I am not your own personal Ciel doll.”

“And exactly how hot did you look last week? I forget. Did you get an amazing date that night?”

I snorted. “Yeah but I didn’t even get laid.”

“Not my fault you can’t seal the deal. Now sit down and let me think.” She dove head first into the closet and started pulling out items of interest.

“Is that not a closet full of girl clothes?” I asked, becoming aware that yet again that my fate was sealed.

“Lovey, there is no such thing as ‘girl clothes’ and ‘boy clothes’. Get that idea right out of your pretty little head.”

“Fine, but no skirts or dresses. I’m small enough, I don’t need to look any more like a girl than I already do.”

“Ugh. Fine, you baby!” she groaned. “Maybe this will provide some lubrication,” she said and tossed me a half-empty bottle of whiskey.

“Get me drunk, dress me in women’s underwear. Is that your game?”

“It’s at least part of it,” she said.

It was, of course, at that moment that Lizzy chose to open the door to stare in abject horror at the two of us.

“Oh my god you guys. Just stop it,” she squealed.

“Can I help you?” Mey-Rin asked.

I took a solid pull off the bottle, hissing at the burn and stealing myself for what was to come.

“Um, miss rude. I wanted to warn you that your other boyfriend just showed up,” Lizzy said with wide eyes like she was witness to true scandal.

“Yeah? Send him in. You wanna stay and tag team this shit?” she waggled her carefully sculpted eyebrows at her roommate. I burst out laughing as I watched the stages of understanding and careful consideration pass across the blond girl’s pretty face.

“Look,” she said finally. “I know you guys like to be weird or whatever and I don’t understand why you think it’s so funny but I don’t want any part of it.”

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry, Lizzy,” Mey-Rin said. “Do you want some whiskey?”

“No, thank you.” She turned and went back to her position by the television. Mey-Rin bounced out of the room to answer the door. When she returned she brought the adorably shy Finn with her.

“Hi, Ciel,” he greeted me warmly.

“What’s up, Finn?” I smiled back.

“Oh my god, you two are just about the cutest boys ever. How am I lucky enough to have you both in my room?” She closed the door with a wicked laugh. “Now, where was I?”

“You were about to destroy my male ego, but you’re trying to ply me with alcohol first.”

“Oh yeah!” She sprung back to the closet and I took another drink and handed the bottle to Finn.

The unabashed enthusiasm of the girl was something to behold. She obviously had an eye for this particular darkened shade of fashion, and the ability to deconstruct seemly normal items and then reconstruct them into something completely different.

I chatted with Finn, finding him to be very pleasant once he stopped tripping over his words in nervousness, while Mey-Rin worked ripping stitches out of something black. She paused to take a drink and to pet the gentle blond boy or to give me a wicked look.

After a while I was handed a pair of black pants and a small bundle of fabric. I looked at the clothing and narrowed my eyes at Mey-Rin. She huffed an exasperated breath and rolled her eyes.

“Excuse us, dear,” she said to Finn and pushed me out of her room into the tiny bathroom and closed the door behind us.

“Look, I appreciate the effort, but I can just run home…”

“Hush. Would you trust me for just a second?”

“Mey-Rin, these pants…or whatever they are will never fit me!”

“They will. Look at how much they stretch. Now take off your work pants and try.”

“Um. I’m not wearing anything under these.”

She sighed and turned her back, arms crossed firmly across her chest as she waited. I wait for a moment but realize she isn’t giving up on the idea and decide to struggle into the pants if only to prove the bitch wrong. Unfortunately, as I pull them up over my narrow hips, I realize that not only do they fit, but they feel pretty great.

“Shit,” I say and she spins around to see, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Now the shirt.”

I take off my office-casual sweater and the _Joy Division_ t-shirt I had hidden underneath and look at the shirt she’s crafted to figure out how it should go. She snatches it out of my hands and stuffs me into it like the unruly toddler that I am. The material is t-shirt jersey and stretches across my chest in ragged slashes and lines. When she’s done pulling and adjusting I can see that I’m wearing what is essentially a vest that laces up the front with a very punk-looking slash and sew job. It hugs my slender torso as well as the pants hug my ass and I am amazed by how different I look, transformed from abused office geek to an otherworldly being. Mey-Rin notices my appreciation as I turn and look in the mirror.

“See! Now put on the jacket.” She holds up a short black coat for me and I slip my arms inside the sleeves. The jacket has a very military look to the cut with no collar, pockets on both sides of the chest. It’s short and hits me right above my hips. When I head back into her room she sets upon my hair and I don’t complain, only looking to Finn now and again for a little reassurance that nothing too embarrassing is happening.

Mey-Rin has decided to truss herself into another corset and I find myself with a knee pushed against her small ass as I pull tight the laces and hear her let out breathy yips as her body is constricted by the stiff boning. Finn watches with amazement as the girl’s small breasts are squished up into an enticing bit of cleavage while her waist shrinks down to a fragile size. She realizes with a burst of profanity that she’s forgotten to put her shoes on first, so I kneel on the floor and help her lace up her boots as though she’s my dark Cinderella.

Sanctuary is just beginning to fill with a steady trickle of black-clad patrons. Where they come from is a mystery to me. In my daily life I rarely see them. Are they wearing mundane clothing all week long until Friday night comes around and lets them out of the coffin again? Is the world really so cruelly boring?

My eye is searching the crowd immediately. Even before I think of it, I’m already looking. I haven’t spoken to Sebastian since our date on Monday and I wonder if something has gone wrong. I sent him a text last night asking if I’d see him and received “maybe” in response. What was happening here?

I’m finishing my clove when I feel a hand on my back, gently getting my attention. I turned to see his face, covered with sunglasses, though it’s already quite dark. I see a bruise on his jaw and my brows furrow before I can even utter a word of greeting.

“Yeah,” he says. “I know. Can we take a walk before we go inside?”

“Of course.” My mind is aflame with curiosity as much as concern.

We walk back onto the main street, away from the crowd that is accumulating in front of Sanctuary. He’s quiet. I walk but my mind is running wild with thoughts and speculation. When he does finally turn to me and speaks my confusion deepens.

“Do you know a punk by the name of Alois?” he asks.

I search my memory but the name is not familiar and I shake my head.

“Well, he knows you.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“Fucking Claude. He shows up to the shop with this little blond twink.”

At the mention of blond hair my brain shuts down. I flash to that glimpse of flaxen hair in Etain, slipping through the back exit of the bar. I shook it off and waited for more information, but I must have blanched because he looked at me all the more intently.

“You do know him,” he said. He took off the glasses to look at me and I could see that his right eye was badly bruised and swollen, but healing, the bruise yellowing, still a tragedy in his gorgeous face. At least we matched now, I thought humorlessly.

“What the fuck?” I reiterate.

He grabs my shoulders and holds them and I realize how badly I’m shaking. “Ciel, it’s alright. I’m not mad, ok? I just want to know what’s going on.”

I’ve obviously concerned him more than I realized. What do I look like? I’m shaking my head now. No, it’s not him. There’s no way he’s followed me.

“Tell me what happened," I say.


	16. Killing Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I ain’t your baby, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rewind with Sebastian as our narrator.

It’s just after 1 on Friday afternoon and I am nursing a devil of a hangover. The sound of Claude’s efficient and perfectly calibrated machine made it feel like the inside of my skull was being tattooed. I would explain my condition but the steel-faced goon wouldn’t give a shit, nor would he alter the incessant drilling on his client.

I pushed up from the chair behind the front desk where I had slumped myself and checked my phone hoping that my 1:30 appointment would cancel. No such luck. Just what I wanted to do was another dolphin tramp-stamp on a college girl with a wild hair up her ass and a crush on the tattoo artist. I had spent about 15 minutes sketching dolphins and decided that the marine mammals look too much like teal jellybeans for my taste.

“I need a gallon of coffee. You want anything?” I shouted to Claude. He winced and sneered in my direction but the tattoo machine stopped buzzing.  

“Please don’t shout across the shop. You know I despise that.”

“That a no?” I make it a point to shout again even though the shop is now silent.

“No, thank you.” Claude fastidiously wipes at the tattoo he is working on and says a quick word of apology for the interruption to his client before digging in again.  I leave the shop, letting the door close loudly behind me and stomp down the stairs. Once I’m outside I light up a cigarette and lean against the side of the building, feeling the cool air on my face and the nicotine entering my system like the friendly fingers of a lover caressing my raw nerves. 

I’m staring off into middle distance, watching the traffic on Congress Street and the random assortment of pedestrians when another body falls against the brick beside me.

“Gimme a smoke, asshole,” Bard grumbles.

I produce a cigarette and offer my lighter and my scruffy roommate takes a deep breath and exhales a stream of smoke through his nose before looking at me. “How you feeling?” he asks.

“Like I got hit with a garbage truck.”

“Yeah, me too. Ready to do it again tonight? A friend of mine asked me to DJ at Sanctuary over on Ferris Street.”

“Shit. Yeah, I guess so. What kind of set are you planning?”

“Definitely old school. Those kids need to be educated.”

“Ok, old man.”

“Fuck you. Everything you listen to was recorded in the 70s. I think you have a major boner for Iggy Pop.”

“So what if I do?”

“Anyway...I’ll see you when I get home from work, then we can head over to the bar.”

“Alright. Bring me some pizza.”

I finish off my smoke and walk slowly to the coffee shop where a perky young girl lights up as I walk to the counter. She looks up at me as though she’s seen a rock star walking up to her register and smiles brightly. “Hi,” she squeaks. “What can I get you?”

“Hey. I need the biggest coffee you have. Black.”

 “Yeah, of course!” She spins on her heels and fumbles with a paper cup and begins to fill it with a heavenly smelling dark roast. I start to open my wallet but she shakes her head. “It’s on me. No charge,” she beams.

“Yeah? Thanks.” I stuff a few dollars into the tip jar and leave the cafe feeling her eyes burning into my ass as I stumble out the door with my warm paper cup.

By the time my client showed up, I was awake and coherent enough to apply a dolphin to her lower back. My head still hurt, but I was appropriately charming and professional and receive a decent tip. I even take a walk-in and complete a passable nautical star on a dude’s elbow before I call it a day. Claude says all of two words to me, and they were to chastise me for my rude behavior. I cut out at 9, and head back to Bard’s house to relax for a few minutes.

I decided to see what he has in the refrigerator and began to put together a meal. Lapsing into the kind of comfortable meditation that comes from a manual task, I dice vegetables and shred cheese and put together a frittata and some cornbread with jalapenos. The smell of cooking food calms me as I sip a beer, leaning against the counter. Bard’s dog, Byron, lies exactly in the middle of the kitchen floor, making me step over him every time I need to go into the fridge while he blinks up at me.

“Christ, it smells good in here,” Bard says as he walks into the house.

“Hi, baby. I made dinner,” I say with sarcastic cheer, handing the man a beer as he slumps into a chair in the kitchen.

“I ain’t your baby, sweetheart.”

“Where is your girlfriend, anyway?” I ask. I’ve only seen the elusive female once since I started crashing with Bard two weeks ago.

“Paula? She went to Vermont, I guess. Some sort of yoga retreat or something.”

“So it’s just you and me again,” I tease, loving the huff of annoyance he gives me. I put a slice of the steaming egg dish onto a small plate with a piece of corn bread and a big pat of butter and put it in front of Bard.

“I had to cancel my set at the bar because work ran late. I think I still want to go over for a drink though if you’re still up for it.”

“Yeah, I guess. There a dress code?”

“It’s a goth night,” he said, the faintest blush on his unshaven face. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at me across the kitchen table.

I laughed and finished my beer. “I can do that.”

Back in my room, looking over my minimal possessions, I pick up my tried and true leather pants and smile at the feeling of the smooth, tight hide sliding against my skin. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh when I see that the last few weeks of skipping the gym are starting to show on my arms and chest. The ink camouflages it to some extent, but I can still tell. I throw on a black t-shirt and pray that I don’t run into anyone worth impressing before I can find a gym in this town.

The bar is in a long, narrow warehouse building downtown. Inexplicably there’s a sports bar in the front and a music venue in the back. Bard takes us in through the backdoor, past the open room where I can hear a generic-sounding rock band on a small stage, and then down a wide set of stairs into a basement room. I can already hear the steady thumping of industrial music and see a few goth kiddies lingering around the doorway. The door is low enough that I have to duck.

“Yeah, watch yer head. It’s a little cramped down here, but it’s bigger than it looks,” Bard says giving a wink to the sweet bleached blond stamping hands at the door. She swipes a sharpie across the back of our hands and leaves a mark that vaguely looks like a letter D. For DJ, maybe? Douchebag? I don’t ask and just follow Bard into the club, weaving through the crowd. He sees a few girls and breaks off like a shark after a school of tuna. I make my way to the bar which is inconveniently located all the way to the far back of the room.

Along the back, leaning against the wall like a slice of sin, is a skinny boy in a bandt-shirt with fishnets stretched over his long arms. There’s a fringe of black hair around his face but when he looks up I can see how delicate and handsome his features are. One dark blue eye passes over me before I look away. There’s an eye patch over his other eye. What’s that about?

The bartender is a familiar face and I reach over the small grouping of kids at the bar to clasp his hand and shout a greeting over the music. Mickey is an MMA fighter and has built himself the body of a warrior. He’s visited the shop a few times talking to Claude about getting the samurai tattoo on his back finished up. It’s amazing work, and the main reason that I put up with Claude’s irritating presence and even let the jerk tattoo me a few times.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, man,” Mickey says.

“Didn’t expect to see myself here either. I’m kind of impressed with the scene for such a small city.”

“Yeah, it’s great. Good group. Lots of steady drinkers and good tippers,” he laughed and handed me a beer. Just as I’m turning away from the bar I see that thin slip of a boy wiggle his way through the crowd toward me. I hold my breath for a second, seeing his face closer, even in the dim light, I can see how beautiful he is. Goddamit. I realize that he’s heading for the bar and I keep walking, moving back to where I can see Bard talking to a few girls. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he didn’t actually have a girlfriend. He introduces me to the girls and I immediately forget their names after I say hello and scan the room to see where the boy has gone, averting my eyes when I see that he’s back to his position against the wall.

To my horror, Bard has also seen the boy and has gone over to talk to him. Did he see me looking? Does he know him? What is his motivation here? I share a fake laugh with one of the girls, half-listening to the conversation while I watch Bard with my peripheral vision. After a few minutes, Bard comes back just as a redhead girl runs over to talk to the boy. I recognize her as one of Bard’s friends and realize they must all know each other.

“What was that about?” I ask as he comes back to stand between me and the ladies.

“Nothing. I just didn’t recognize him and he was wearing a _Skinny Puppy_ shirt so I decided to introduce myself.”

“So, who is he?”

“No fucking clue. Mey-Rin seems to know him though. She probably brought him.”

“That’s the redhead?”

“That’s her. Fiery piece of ass, that one. Watch out for her,” he laughed.

“Did you guys date or something?”

“Not exactly.” He seemed content to leave it there, so I didn’t ask any more questions.

“I need a smoke,” I said, finishing my beer and leaving the empty on a table. I’ve had enough of the monotonous music.

Outside was quiet and cool and I was glad to be out of the cramped basement room full of the writhing bodies of increasingly drunk kids in their spooky makeup. I do enjoy the goth scene, but I just wasn’t feeling it tonight. I walked a little way from the bar and leaned against a building and contemplated the Friday night traffic. So different from New York. By midnight, the stop lights just flash red and vehicles come to a safe and considerate pause before maneuvering through intersections. Pedestrians wander across the street without fear of being smeared against the pavement by a flying taxi cab.

I’m thinking back to the last time Bard and I went to the weekly goth night in Manhattan that was dubbed _The Black Party_ by the group that organized it. Bard was playing a set and the night was so hot that makeup was sweating off of the black clad bodies in streaks of black and white with smears of red like blood across pale faces in the flashing purple light. I could smell the sweat and clove cigarettes and almost taste the wine on my tongue.

But then I realize that I do smell a clove cigarette and my dreaming brain comes back to focus on the slender shoulders of the boy from the club as he starts to walk passed me. His jeans are tight on his thin legs and he huddles into himself against the chill as he walks. I wonder if his face is as beautiful outside of the dim lights of the bar.

“Is that a clove I smell?” I ask. He stops and turns toward me. Shit. I can’t even stand his face, it’s that perfect. His one eye is searching me all over, as if he’s assessing whether or not I’m a threat. I flick my cigarette into the street and try to look friendly. “Can I bum one?”

“Y…yeah, man, of course,” he says. He has an accent to his soft voice, but I can’t quite place it. He digs into the pocket of his tight black jeans and produces a black cigarette and then flicks open a sliver zippo lighter for me like a gentleman. The first drag is like heaven on my tongue and I can’t help but moan a little when I taste it.

“Thanks. God, nothing else tastes like that,” I say, letting the sweet smoke weave into my previous recollection of happier days in the city. Back before shit got so fucked up. I lock eyes with the boy for just a moment and realize there’s more behind the dark blue of his gaze. There’s something deep in there that only enhances his beauty. That’s interesting, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved in anything at the moment. Particularly with something that looked like this much trouble. I push off the wall and start to walk away before I can make up my mind, but still hear myself shout over my shoulder, “See you next week?”

I think he replies, but I’m turning down Ferris Street and walking briskly back to the club before I change my mind. It’s later now and the crowd has thinned out a bit. Only the dedicated crew is still dancing to this shitty set of music. Bard is sitting at one of the few tables with a girl with long black dyed hair and a purple corset cinching her waist sitting on his lap. There’s a tray of shots on the table, so I throw myself into a chair next to him and help myself. I grimace when I realize it’s Jager, but toss it back anyway.

Bard drives us home; me and the corseted girl crammed into the cab of his pickup truck. I won’t drive after having anything to drink since my arrest. I won’t do anything to risk having to go back to prison. I keep my mouth shut about the fact that he’s bringing a girl home when he’s supposedly been living with Paula for the last few months. I just make myself scarce when we get home and close my bedroom door and turn some music on. I take out my sketch book and sit on the bed to work out a few designs while I listen to some _Killing Joke_ and wonder why the hell I’m still thinking about the boy with the clove cigarettes.


	17. Evil Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s like Halloween, man. Anything goes.”

“Had an interesting conversation with Mey-Rin today at work,” Bard said casually as I worked in the kitchen of his little house putting together a chicken to roast in the oven. Byron looked up at me expectantly with a very serious expression.

“Who?” I ask.

“Mey-Rin. The redhead with the nice ass and the thick glasses.”

“Uh huh,” I say bending to see if the oven has pre-heated then looking over at Bard who’s leaning against the table.

“She and that skinny kid from Plague came in for pizza. They work together apparently. He asked about you.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “What do you mean _he asked about me_? What’d he say?”

“Well, actually he didn’t say anything, Mey-Rin did. She said he was asking about you and the kid just looked embarrassed as shit,” Bard laughed. “His name is Ciel, by the way.”

I act uninterested as I put the roasting pan carefully in the oven and then wash my hands and scrub a few potatoes with more vigor than was probably necessary. Bard decides to keep talking when I seem to have nothing else to say.

“I told them that you’re staying with me for a few weeks and working at a tattoo shop.”

“Ok,” I said.

“He seems like a nice kid,” Bard ventures.

“I’m sure.” I begin to slice the potatoes on a mandolin deciding to make them au gratin to go with the chicken.

“Anyway, I am going to DJ this week. It’s an Evil Dead theme night, so it should be a riot.”

I look up at that but Bard is ignoring me, checking his phone and absent mindedly rubbing the scruff on his chin.

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s like Halloween, man. Anything goes.”

Anything goes. The words run around in my head as I continue my work in the kitchen. Once everything is in the oven, I decide to sit in the living room and put on a movie. For shits and giggles, I put on _Evil Dead_ and let the familiar movie entertain me while I consider whether or not I’d actually want to put the effort for this. If I even want to go. But I’m lying to myself. I have to go and I have to see if the boy is going to be there again and if he is, I’m going to have to talk to him.

Ultimately I decide to go for it. The week has been uneventful at the shop and really hanging out with Bard is all I have to look forward to. Fucking sad times.

From a thrift store I found a pair of tan pants and a blue button up shirt; essential since I don’t own much that isn’t black. The shirt meets with a pair of scissors and some red paint for good measure to give it that zombie-worn look. I slick back my hair with some sticky hair product that I find in the bathroom, probably something that Paula has left, and then attempt to produce a convincing Ash Williams curl. The black hunk of hair sits there against my pale skin, looking like an apostrophe. I use some of the red paint and add a few gashes to my face, not stopping to wonder for too long if acrylic paint is bad for my skin. I spend more time fiddling with the paint, adding black to add depth, before I realize that Bard has been standing behind me in the bathroom door for a while. I look up and meet his eyes through the mirror. His face is painted in stark black and white like a skull, grinning at me.

“Oh, don’t mind me gorgeous. Keep doing your makeup. I’ll be out in the truck when you’re ready.” He laughs and shakes his head, taking the cigarette from behind his ear and putting it in his mouth. I put down my paint brushes and go after him, feeling a little stupid but not sure that I care. I grab the toy chainsaw that I’ve recently spray painted red and black to complete my look. Can’t be a zombie hunter without a chainsaw.

I’m pleased that I’m not the only idiot to dress up as we make our way into the little club. There are zombies and their corresponding hunters aplenty. I flirt with the doorkeeper and get in for free again after she draws another D on my hand. It’s definitely for douchebag since Bard gets the same treatment. Or maybe dipshit? My eyes are already scanning the room for the boy that I tried to tell myself I wouldn’t look for.

He’s there. I take a moment to be sure it’s him because it’s dark and he has on some zombie makeup that has his cheekbones looking sharp enough to cut flesh. The dark kohl around his eye makes it shine out from his face like a gem stone. Beside him is the redhead in a ragged black dress and some tall platform boots.

Bard heads directly for them and throws an arm around the girl’s slender waist. Unbelievable how many girls he manages to fondle while claiming to be in a relationship. After he gives the girl a squeeze and greets the boy, he’s off to the DJ booth to prepare for his set. I move toward the bar, careful not to decapitate any zombies with my chainsaw on the way. I stop for just a minute to let an undead girl walk through a narrow space in front of me when someone bumps into my back. I turn slowly to look.

“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Campbell,” the one-eyed face says through dark makeup as he looks up at me. He’s short, more than a foot shorter than me and slight of build. I could pick him up but I restrain myself.

“You’re funny, huh?” I say in reply to his recognition of my character and willingness to play along. Such a polite little zombie.

“Mostly clumsy,” he says and throws me a smile that only curves up one side of his mouth and makes him look younger than he probably is.

“You gave me a cigarette last week, didn’t you?” I already know it’s him, but I decide to get confirmation anyway. He nods. “Bard says that you work with his friend.”

“Yeah, for the time being anyway. It’s a shit job. She’s cool though,” he said.

“She seems like a hot ticket,” I acknowledge with a smile. “So what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

He seems a little confused and I remember that not everyone is used to the abrupt way of talking that Bard and I embrace. “Yeah. You’re not from here,” I clarify.

“Oh, no I’m not. I just moved here from Montreal,” He said.

“Yeah? That’s a cool town. I’ve worked there a few times at conventions.”

“Tattoo conventions?”

I nodded realizing that I’ve found a way in.  “You got any?”

“Um. Tattoos?” He looks so shy it’s absolutely killing me. I nod that yes, I mean tattoos.

“I have one. I got it when I was a teenager. It’s not that great.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I could fix it for you,” I suggest. It’s kind of a shit move, I’m not really asking him out, but I sort of am. I don’t want to be too obvious in case I change my mind.

“That would be great. I mean, I don’t know if you’d want to bother. It’s nothing special.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said before I could stop myself. Now I’m flirting, I might as well buy him a drink. “What are you drinking?”

“Uh, well I got the Ash Williams,” he says pointing to the specials bored where a few kitschy drinks are listed.

I laugh and get Mickey to make another cocktail for him and put it on my tab. When I hand him the drink he looks at me curiously. “You’re from New York?” he asks.

“What gave me away?”

“Oh, uh, Bard actually mentioned it. But you do have an accent.”

“So do you,” I say.

“Ha. Do I?” He’s blushing now and I love it. Might as well keep going.

“Where’s the tattoo?” I asked.

“My shoulder.” 

“What is it? How big?”

“Um. It’s a pentagram. About this big.” He holds up a hand to indicate a fairly small tattoo. I can work with that. I decide to take a chance and see where this goes. I only have one appointment tomorrow and I need some sort of distraction. Might as well be a pretty one.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I asked.

“Recovering from drinking multiple Ash Willaims.”

“You are funny. Come by the shop and keep me company and I’ll fix it for you. I’ve been bored out of my skull.”

He agrees with a nervous smile and I give him my card so he knows where the shop is. I leave his fate entirely up to him. I decide I should detach myself from this temptation and go to find Bard and bug him in the DJ booth.

The DJ is beaming with pride as he shows me the set list for the remainder of the evening. I scan the songs and see that this place is about to turn into the Batcave. Once _Sisters of Mercy_ starts playing, the entire club seems to be under a hypnotic spell. I’m surprised that these young kids are so affected by the music, and even I am feeling inspired to dance. Bard gets annoyed with my lurking presence and kicks me out of the booth. I have no choice but to be absorbed into the writhing mass of dancers. The mood is euphoric and I let myself get swept up in it.

I dance with a girl that I think I recognize from last week. Her hips knock against mine as she sways to the hypotonic beats. A failed attempt at seduction and then she’s gone and there’s another girl who I take by the hand and spin around until she is pulled away by someone else with a greater claim on her attention. It’s then that I notice the redhead is deliberately pushing Ciel into my path. I take a chance and put my hand onto his hip and pull him closer. _Christian Death_ is playing and I catch his eye and hold it for the briefest moment before the dolly from the door pulls him away from me.

My mind is full of plans for tomorrow, wondering what he will do. Will he show up? Bard’s set is finishing up with the echo of “undead, undead” and the staff is pushing the crowd out of the club. The bubbling mass moves past me as I make my way to the DJ booth. Bard is congratulating himself on a perfect set and the dolly is leaning against the steps to the booth chatting him up. I roll my eyes when I see the way she’s looking at him and prepare myself to squeeze into the truck for another awkward ride home. I take an armful of gear and help Bard to the door.

Outside I see Ciel lingering around the doorway and I lean in and speak near his ear as I walk by, taking his attention from the crowd that’s naturally gravitated around him. “Tomorrow?” I ask and see him nod. I wonder if he’s acknowledging me or hears someone else speak, but I keep walking to catch up to Bard and his damsel de jour.


	18. Inked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are just full of surprises.”

Saturday morning I’m up and out of the house as early as I can stand. I don’t want to run into Bard and I’m anxious to get to the shop and figure out my day. Claude won’t be in all day, so I open the shop, flick on the lights and turn on some _New York Dolls,_ knowing that he would hate the messy, loud music. Just out of spite I turn the music up a little louder and sit down at the front desk, putting my feet up as I drink my coffee and check the appointment book to be sure nothing was scheduled last night while I was off.

There’s one appointment in the book and I have another half hour before he arrives. I have no clue who this person is because Claude pawned him off on me. Spill over from his busy schedule. No matter. I pull out the laptop and find a neatly organized folder labeled with the client’s name, Joker. Inside are a few images and a copy of the email describing what the client is looking for; a skeletal hand holding a brightly colored ball between each of the four digits. I look at the photographs of skeletons and of juggling equipment and print out a few images and start sketching. By the time the door swings open, I have a good idea of what the tattoo might look like.

I look up and see a man walking toward me that in fact fits the persona of Joker. He has orange hair pulled away from his face but spiked back and frosted blond on the tips. There are multiple rings and spikes in his ears and some heavy eye liner around some interestingly purple looking eyes. He shrugs out of an equally purple jacket and I can see he’s wearing a white t-shirt over a pair of athletic shorts.

“Apologies for my lateness. I’m just coming from rehearsal. You are Sebastian?” He holds out a hand for me to shake.

“Yeah. And you must be Joker. Come on in, get comfortable. I’m about ready with a sketch for you to take a look at.”

Joker shook out his jacket and placed it across the back of the chair before taking a seat. It took me another few minutes to feel that the sketch was ready for viewing, and I walked over, feeling his eyes on me, appraising me as I approached.

“Is this similar to what you had in mind?”

His lips curved immediately into a smirk when he took the paper from my hand. “Yes, exactly,” he said, nodding. “Can we have color? Lots of color?”

“Of course. Still thinking calf?” He nods. “Why don’t you hop up on the table and I’ll get the stencil ready.”

The tattoo goes smoothly once I get started and Joker sits like a champ. We chat a bit, but he seems content to let me work in my own space while he stays in his own. I’m about finished when I notice that the shop door opened and Ciel stepped in, nervously looking around the shop.

“I’m just finishing up.” I shout over to Ciel and he smiles and nods. I’m pleased with the end result, and spend just a few more minutes adding some highlights to the colors to make them pop.

“I think you’re done, man.” I said to Joker. “Get up and take a look.”

I can tell he’s a little sore as he gets up, but he lights up when I hand him the mirror to take a look.

“This is exactly what I was thinking. You, my friend, are amazing.”

Not only did I receive a tip, but also a set of tickets to a circus performance. Apparently the guy really was a juggler with a traveling troop. I filed the tickets away and with a grin, went to meet my next client.

“Perfect timing,” I said as Joker left the shop with a final wave. “That was the only appointment I had for the whole day and I’m stuck here until 8 tonight.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to be bored,” he said with a smile. “Is it always this slow here?”

“Not when Claude is here, he has appointments booked six months in advance. I was hoping to catch some of his overflow, but it’s been a little hit or miss.”

“Seems like a nice shop anyway. No zombies.” That made me laugh. He was certainly adorable, even if I did seem to make him nervous.

“So, let’s get a look at this pentagram and see what we’re dealing with,” I said. His face reddened, but he shed his hooded sweatshirt and then turned and pulled up his t-shirt, exposing his smooth, pale back to me. I bit my lip in spite of myself. Gladly, he couldn’t see me and the way I leered at his bare flesh. I shook it off and tried to be professional for a moment. I still couldn’t help but touch the tattoo, tracing the faded black ink with my fingers. It wasn’t even raised against his skin any more. This would be a piece of cake to work on. If I could make myself focus.

“Is it bad?” he asked.

“No, not bad. A little unimaginative. Why’d you get a pentagram, anyway? You into devil worship or something?” I asked. I headed back for my work station and began to plan out what I would need.

“Ha, no, not exactly. I had a thing for Paganini and the idea of his contact with the devil. The idea is that the more prominent the sign of the pact is, the more strength it has.” He said. I glance over to look at him and he seems slightly embarrassed.

“You play the violin?” I asked. Maybe if I can show that I was listening it will put him at ease.

“Yeah. Well, not like him, but I can play. I don’t have a Stradivarius or anything.”

“You are just full of surprises.” I’m completely amazed by this kid. What else is he hiding?

“So, I don’t have a lot of money to get tattooed, but I would like this fixed up a bit,” he said.

“No charge. You’re helping me out by keeping me sane this afternoon.” I wasn’t sure what my plan was when I invited him here, but now I know that I want to do this for him. I want to make this tattoo something beautiful for him. I want to make something to fit his personality better than the horrid flash pentagram that some slob rubbed into his teenaged skin.

He still hesitated at the front of the shop. I went over to the bench and patted it invitingly. He walked over slowly and pulled his shirt off, making me swallow hard. Hopefully my professional face stayed in place long enough that he didn’t notice.

“Are you sure? I want to pay you for your time,” he said.

“I’m sure,” I said. “Do you trust me to work something out here?” I very much want to draw on this pale skin. I want to put my hands all over it and leave my mark.

“I trust you,” he says, so very sweetly and his eyes even close. He really does trust me. I pick up sharpie and start to sketch around the tattoo, pressing my fingers into his back. I rest my other hand against his neck, feeling his soft hair under my fingers, something I wouldn’t do with another client, but I just can’t help myself. I feel like I need to hold onto him now that I have him here on my table.

I can feel the tension as it leeches out of him. His thin body relaxes against the table and turns to butter under my fingertips. When he starts to talk, asking about the music that’s playing and asking what else I like to listen to, I am so wrapped up in our conversation that I don’t realize how long I’ve been drawing on his skin. I take an appraising look at the work I’ve done, completed in multiple colors, letting me know where lines and shadows should be, and then nudge him out of his revive.

Once he’s upright again, I hand him a small mirror so he can angle it to look at his back in the larger wall mirror. “Don’t worry about the color; that’s just for my reference. I’ll keep it black and grey. It looks good against your pale skin.” I explain. I’m unable to keep the last part to myself. I’m eating him up with my eyes. He has to see it.

 “Good?” I ask.

“Are you fucking kidding? This is amazing, I love it.” He’s smiling so brightly that I can’t help but smile too.

“I thought you might. I just have one thing to ask before I start to tattoo you.” The words come out of my mouth. I’ve made the decision before I even acknowledge it to myself. I hope it isn’t a mistake, but I can’t reel it back in now that I’ve said it. I don’t want to.

“What’s that?”

“Can I kiss you? Because you’re driving me absolutely crazy.”

The kid has stopped breathing. I watch his thin chest as it stops moving and it’s killing me as each fraction of a second ticks by as I wait for his answer.

“Um…” his mouth opens and sound comes out. I wait, taking a tentative step closer. Then the smile lights up his features. “Fuck, so you were flirting with me,”Ciel said.

“Too subtle?” I stand as close as I dare, feeling the warmth coming off his naked torso, looking down at his face. It’s killing me, but I want to wait. I don’t have to wait long. His fingers clutch onto my belt and pull me hard and I crash into his small body. I have to throw out a hand against the wall to keep my balance, but I manage to lean down and touch his lips. Just a small kiss. Savoring the taste of him. I can’t help myself and dip back again, taking his soft lower lip into my mouth and tracing it gently with my tongue. I know I have to stop now or I’ll ruin this. I push off the wall and walk back to my work station, forcing myself to relax, taking in a deep breath and then letting it go.

“Now get back on my table. It’s time for pain.” I said. Ciel watches me with slight confusion, but nearly trips over himself to get back onto the table. He settles down with his hands under his head, his eyes closed, waiting for me. I bite my lip and get the machine ready to bite into the smooth skin.


	19. The Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why, you worried now? I wouldn’t do anything to mar this perfect skin.”

As I set up my equipment, I see his blue eye watching me from the table. I lean down to see his expression more clearly, gauging his nervousness. Something I do before I tattoo anyone to see what I’m about to get into. But what I see isn’t nervousness; it’s curiosity.

“I have a fairly light hand, but let me know if you need a break.”

He nods that he understands and closes his eyes again. There’s even a faint smile on his lips as he settles in, waiting for me to start working. I take a deep breath and when I let it out I bring the needle down to his skin, tracing the first line. Within seconds I’ve lost myself in the work and the feel of my hand on the machine and on his skin. When he speaks, it pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Did you really just kiss me?”

“I guess I did. I think you might have kissed me back,” I said.

“Oh,” he said. He hums to himself as though he is enjoying this thoroughly. “How long have you been tattooing?” he asks.

“Why, you worried now? I wouldn’t do anything to mar this perfect skin.”

“Not at all. I’m just curious.”

“About nine years now professionally, I guess. I started as soon as I could get my hands on a machine.”

“Do you live in New York City?”

“Brooklyn. I let my apartment go to come here though to work with Claude. I’m staying with Baldroy for another few weeks and then I need to find a new place. It doesn’t seem like there’s much work for me here.”

“I only just met Baldroy, but he seems cool.”

“What about you? What’s your story?”

“No story, really. I have an apartment on the other side of town. No roommates. No real job.”

“You’re holding out on me.”

“How do you figure?”   

“There’s more to you than that.”

“Not really,” he said. It had a finality to it that said he didn’t want to talk about anything that happened before. An understandable boundary to place upon this conversation, but not one I would be able to leave alone for long.

I realized with a twinge of regret that I was nearly done with my work. I sprayed a little skin disinfectant onto a paper towel and swiped it gently across the work. There’s a little blood, but mostly just irritated skin and fresh ink. I take off my gloves and give him a nudge letting him know I’m done.

“Do you want to take a look?”

He’s stiff from lying still for so long, and I give him my arm to hold onto until his feet swing onto the floor and he safely stands. I give him the hand mirror so he can see his shoulder.

The expression on his face was precious. I knew instantly that he was pleased with the result.

“I can’t believe you did this free hand. This is amazing, Sebastian!” he said. He threw his arms around my neck and pulled me against him. I was careful not to touch his shoulder with the fresh ink, putting my hands lightly on his lower back. It took a bit of effort, but I detached myself from his hug before I let myself fall in too deep.

“Let’s get you bandaged up and then we can figure out how we’re going to spend the rest of our afternoon.”

“The rest of the afternoon?’ he asked.

“Well, I’m stuck here until eight anyway and you did say that you’d keep me company.”

“What did you have in mind?”

What did I have in mind? I pondered the question while I bandaged his fresh tattoo with some ointment and plastic wrap, carefully sealing the edges with tape to be sure it was covered well enough to keep bacteria out until it could rest for a few hours. Then he could give it a gentle wash and let it be in the open air. I let my mind revert to thinking work while I felt him watching me carefully through the mirror.

“We could try that other thing again,” he said as I finished the bandage.

“What’s that?”

Ciel came toward me where I stood against the counter and reached out to touch the side of my face. “You know, that thing where it was sort of like this.”

“Oh, and then it was sort of like this?” I ventured, touching my lips to his. It took a lot of strength to keep the kiss gentle and not to push his petite body up onto the counter top. I wanted to taste him so badly and when his mouth insisted and his tongue pushed through my lips and into my mouth I lost myself. He shoved against me, his slender hips touching mine, backing me up until I was against the wall, grabbing my hips. I couldn’t help but grind against him; he was so close and felt so good.

He was panting against my mouth as his hands slid lower, pulling at my belt and unbuttoning my jeans. I couldn’t think past the softness of his mouth and the frantic motions of his hands, but somewhere in my consciousness I heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open, and heard the steady and unmistakable sound of Claude coming up the stairs.

With heavy regret I pushed Ciel back with a hand against his bare chest. I started to fix my jeans, hating that four-eyed bastard with every fiber of my being.

“Whaa…” Ciel whined, still kissing my lips.

“Shh…someone’s coming up the stairs. Fuck. Where’s your shirt?”

“Ugh,” the kid said. He was pissed and pushed away from me looking for his discarded shirt.

Claude threw the door open like he owned the place, glancing at me sharply before starting into a tirade about my musical selection.

“Sebastian, I asked you not to play this sort of music in the shop.”

Like a smug asshole, he took off his jacket and went to his place behind the desk, rolling up the sleeves of his always neatly pressed dress shirt indicating that he was here to work.

“What do you care if you’re not here?” I asked to antagonize him. After this interruption, I was not going to be civil.

“It can make clients feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s a tattoo shop. It’s not supposed to be comfortable. What are you doing here, Claude?”

“I see that you got some work this afternoon,” he said, glancing at Ciel.

“Yeah. Claude, this is Ciel. Ciel, meet Claude, the dickhead who owns this shop.” There. Introductions made.

“Oh. Hi,” Ciel said. He still looked completely irritated and not a little uncomfortable. 

“Were there any other walk-ins?” Claude asked.

“Nope.”

“And no appointments, I see,” he said flipping through the ledger by the phone.

“Nope.”

“Good. I have a few coming in about twenty minutes that I’ll need help with.”

“What?”

Claude did his annoying teacher look at me over the top of his glasses. “Tattoo clients. You do remember how this works, right? There’s a bachelorette party coming in to get matching tattoos. There are eight total.”

Anger flooded into me like a tsunami. What kind of bullshit was this? A bachelorette party? “Fuck you. What?”

“Now turn this music off and set up your station. Please.”

I looked over at Ciel who was struggling into his t-shirt. This was not how I imagined the rest of this afternoon to go. How was I going to pull out of this?

“Look, I’m real sorry about this, but you should probably bail. Claude can be a huge dick when he’s stressed and I have a feeling this will be a nightmare,” I said quietly. Claude could probably hear me, but I didn’t care.

“Yeah. Alright,” Ciel said. He looked at Claude and started to head for the door, pulling on his sweatshirt with a wince when he flexed his tender shoulder.

“Eight o’clock?” I asked.

He nodded, but I couldn’t tell if he meant it or not. Fucking Claude. I wasn’t going to make this evening easy on him.

“Who was that?” Claude asked.

“I told you. His name is Ciel.”

“I heard. But what I asked is who he is.”

“A client,” I barked in reply.

Claude made a noise that said he thought I was full of shit. How awkward had we looked when he came through the door? I wasn’t sure. I thought I had my jeans buttoned by the time he would have seen through the glass of the shop door, but I wasn’t positive. I didn’t really care if the fucker knew what I was up to, it just wasn’t professional to be messing around in the shop. I knew that, but I’ll be damned if I could help it.

“The party will be here in approximately fifteen minutes.  They’ve requested matching work, so I will prepare the stencils if you prepare our work stations. I’d like to turn this around as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said. I was fairly sure this would be more painful than seeing Ciel walk out the door just now.

The bachelorette party came into the shop like a Mardi Gras parade, all feather boas and dick bead necklaces flying around the stench too much perfume and a hint of desperation. Claude adjusted his glasses and greeted the women with a professionalism that I would never be fake enough to attain. Once the ladies argued over who would go first, I escorted one of the women to my station and prepped her for the tattoo; a monarch butterfly.

Having applied the same tattoo enough times that I lost track which number I was on, I looked up and saw that it was already 9. No wonder I felt like I was about to pass out, I hadn’t eaten for about eight hours. I excused myself from the group of ladies, thwarting their groping hands that seemed to accidentally brush against my person as I walked past, and went to the door. The bathroom was outside of the shop and down the hall. As I pushed the door open I noticed that there was a body on the other side and I almost pushed him right down the stairs in my absentminded haste. The smell of cloves tipped me off to who it was before I recognized his face. He must have been peeking through the door into the shop.

“What’s up creeper?” I asked as I pulled him back away from the stairs.

“Christ, I think I was about to break my neck! Thanks,” he said, blushing brightly.

“Anytime. I’m sorry about this. We ended up with ten women wanting matching tattoos and they’ve spent more than an hour arguing over who was getting tattooed by who. I still have two left to go before I can leave,” I explained.

“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t coming back. I probably shouldn’t be hanging around though if you’re still working.”

He was so sincere that it was killing me. I almost hated what I was about to do, but it was the only thing I could think of that would make him come back and would also save me from passing out and being attacked by the rabid women in the shop.

“Actually, you could do me a huge favor. Would you go get me something to eat?” I asked.

“Of course. Any requests? You probably have to eat a ton being all huge like you are,” he said, smiling widely.

“Anything. I could eat a ton of just about anything right now.”

I couldn’t resist the urge and kissed him quickly on the cheek and then sent him off with a few bucks, hoping that he’d be back soon. I watched as he skipped down the stairs with agility and purpose, smiling to myself that I had managed to trick him into serving me so quickly.


	20. Joy Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now I’m gonna get the fuck outta here.”

The next girl on my table was nervous to sit for me. I spent a bit of time talking to her and explaining the process that I had just repeated on three of her friends and finally got her to relax enough to apply the stencil and start working on an outline. Every time I felt her back tense I had to brace myself to keep the lines straight. I glanced over to see Claude working as efficiently and quietly as his first tattoo of the day and wondered where he got that level of patience.

When the door swung open and Ciel appeared with a bag of food I nearly threw my machine in my haste to get to him. With great self-control I applied some disinfectant to the girl’s back and then removed my gloves, washing my hands and mumbling an apology to the client before racing over to see the beautiful angel of sustenance.  

“I brought food, kiddies!” Ciel said.

Claude looked up with annoyance but continued his work.

“I didn’t know what to get, but I had a feeling that Claude was maybe vegetarian,” Ceil said and offered a package to Claude, shaking the little styrofoam container in his direction. The other sandwich was in my face before I could even process what it was. Ciel watched me with obvious joy as I inhaled the sandwich without tasting it.  

“I am. Thank you,” Claude said.

“You’re welcome,” Ciel said with a smile.

“Oh my god, this is amazing. Isn’t he the best? Claude? Hey, dickhead…”

“Yes, Sebastian. I already thanked him for the sandwich.”

“His name is Ciel,” I said, pressing the point.

“Thank you, Ciel,” Claude said, grudgingly.

“See, he can be tolerable sometimes.”

Claude really wasn’t a bad guy. It was difficult to explain to other people who didn’t work with him or appreciate his eccentricities, but he did amazing work and that in itself was worthy of respect. Even if he was a giant penis with glasses.

The group of clients seemed to be a little bored with our lack of tattooing and the majority of them broke off, leaving the three remaining ladies behind to get their tattoos. The shop was relatively quiet as I finished eating and washed up, putting on a fresh pair of gloves to get back to work. I noticed that Ciel was looking shifty, like he was thinking about leaving and I caught his eye and pointed to an empty chair, hoping he would sit and wait for me. To my pleasure he obediently sat and settled in to wait.

When the final tattoo was done and payment had been sorted out, Claude and I did a tag team clean up, putting our tools into the autoclave and disinfecting every surface of our work stations. I gave him a look, questioning whether he was content and he gave me the barest of smiles in reply.

“Despite your attitude, you did acceptable work. Thank you for staying late to help me finish,” Claude said. It was high praise coming from him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now I’m gonna get the fuck outta here.”

I put on my jacket and glanced over to Ciel with a sense of anticipation. He had waited for me. As we made our way down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk and the cool air outside I thought about what that might mean. Apparently Ciel was also thinking about it because it was the first thing he asked when he finally spoke. 

“So, what now?”

“Well, I want a beer, but I’m not feeling very social after that nightmare of a job,” I said. The idea of going to a bar was not appealing. I really wanted to be home.

“Oh.”

“So I thought we could go back to my place.”

“Oh…”

“If that’s alright with you?” We had reached my car and I unlocked the passenger door and held it open. Feeling the heaviness of the door and smelling the leather interior was already making me feel better about my existence on this planet. I itched to drive it and to have Ciel in my passenger seat.

“This is your car?” he asked with a little bit of disbelief. Honestly, what did he think I would drive?

“I couldn’t resist getting something for the road trip when I left the city. It’s a '65 Fastback.”

“It’s fucking sweet, is what it is.”

“Wait until you hear it.” I slid into the driver’s seat and it was like putting on a favorite pair of gloves. I turned the key and the engine growled for me. “We can take the long way back if you want.”

“Fuck yeah. Yes, let’s do that.” I looked over to see his eye wide as I put the car in gear and pulled out into the street with a little bit of a punch to the gas. I took State Street out of the arts district and got onto the bride taking us out of downtown, watching the city lights reflect in the water as we crossed the harbor and got onto the longer coastal road that I knew I could stick to and open the car up a bit. My fingers twitched as I shifted up and gained a little speed. The car was so responsive, the steering was tight and the wheel creaked just slightly as I gripped it. When I took the first curve in the road a little fast, Ciel’s hand shot out and latched onto my thigh, fingers digging into my flesh. 

“Hmm…you like fast cars?”

“I guess so,” he said with a breathy voice.

Sweet Jesus. This kid was going to be the death of me. I pushed down on the gas a little more and he squeezed my leg tighter.   

“Careful or you’re going to make go off the road.” The comment made his hand slide higher on my leg until it was resting on my belt buckle. I held my breath for a second, but his fingers were already working the leather through the buckle. Another few seconds and the button on my jeans had popped open. When his fingers pulled on the zipper and brushed against my stiffening cock I couldn’t help but push against him. His hand slipped inside my jeans and gripped me through my boxers and then squeezed suddenly and made my vision swim just enough that we drifted and hit a bit of gravel on the side of the road. Ciel made a contented sound and started to work his hand a little and I tried like hell to concentrate on the road and not on the boy that I wanted to throw into the backseat and destroy.

Unfortunately we had drawn the attention of a police officer and the blue lights in my rearview told me that play time was over.

“Fuuuuck me.” I pulled the car over to the roadside and eased into a gentle stop, waiting for the officer to approach the car. Ciel removed his hand from my pants and curled himself up into the passenger seat, huddled into his hooded sweatshirt. I turned and gave the officer my best smile.

“Seems like you were going a little fast around that corner,” the officer said. It was a female officer, I noticed and decided to turn up the charm as high as I could bear. She bent down to see through the car window, tipping her flashlight to see both of us in the dark.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“Have you been drinking tonight?”

“Nope. I’m just leaving work actually.”

“You’ve got New York plates on this vehicle. Where are you working?”

“I’m helping a friend out at a gallery in the arts district.”

“You’re an artist?” she asked. It was a little bitchy. I had wanted to be nice, but I won’t take shit off anyone.

“Yeah. I have my portfolio in the back if you wanna see.”

The comment made her take another look at me and I saw her eyes dip down to my lap where my pants were still undone. Luckily my dick was still covered by my boxer shorts, though it was at full attention, or I might be up on indecent exposure charges. I saw the color rush to the officer’s face and it made me smile.

“I’m…going to need to see your license and registration, please.”

“Sure thing,” I said. Of course my license was in my wallet which was in my back pocket. I angled my hips up off the seat to reach my wallet I looked over to Ciel. “Honey, would you grab the registration from the glove box?”

He obediently opened the little door and found the required documentation, handing it to me so I could give it and my ID to the officer. She quickly retreated to her own vehicle and then made us wait while she looked for some reason to get me. I didn’t think she’d find anything, but I was still uneasy. I did have a record, but I had been clean for years. Not even a parking ticket.   

“Do I get to see your portfolio?” Ciel said in the quiet of the car.

“If I don’t get arrested, sure.” He was unbelievably adorable when he was being cheeky. I couldn’t help but lean over and kiss his smart lips.

The officer returned to the car, thrusting my paperwork back through the window into my face. “You’re free to go, Mr. Michaelis. Please observe the posted speed in the future. This isn’t New York,” she said with a bite to her voice.

“I certainly will. Thank you.”

As soon as she was seated back in her car, I pulled back onto the road to leave this mess behind me. I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t thought anything would happen, but was I ever glad to have made it through unscathed. I kept my speed at the limit and drove with careful determination, heading back to the main road that would get me home. Ciel started to giggle in his seat, a hand up over his mouth to stifle the sound.

Enjoy that?”

“Oh…my…god…that was brilliant!”

“She could have arrested me.”

“For what? Concealing a weapon?” That thought seemed to strike him as extra funny and he convulsed with laughter.

“It’s not all that concealed at the moment.”

“If you want me to apologize for that, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

“Alright, I think this little joy ride is over.”


	21. The Koi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is it possible? Anything is possible. What are you willing to do to make it possible? That’s the question,”

I woke up lying on a wooden floor with pain in my head and in my back. Another early morning and I’m positive that wherever I am is not home. I sit up and think for a moment. Where is home? Most recently I was transferred to a foster home in Queens, but I wasn’t even sure I remembered the address. At fifteen, I figured I was better off on my own than trying to survive in another fucked up family only to be pawned off somewhere else a few months later and expected to attend yet another school full of people who didn’t give a shit.

“You awake, man?” Bard asked with his gravely morning voice.

“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled.

So, it’s Bard’s apartment. I remember being at the basement show and meeting up with him. His band was playing the sloppy, loud music that made the paint peel from the walls of that dingy basement squat. I had a few beers and hung out with punks twice my age until it was time to lug the heavy amps up the narrow stairs and into the alleyway where the band’s van was parked. Not wanting to go back to my assigned home, I was glad to curl up on the hard floor of Bard’s apartment for a little quiet and a taste of freedom.

He chucks a pack of cigarettes in my direction then flops back on to his bed. Outside the constant sounds of traffic and the swarm of humanity known as New York rises to daytime levels of cacophony. The street already looks hot and the humidity in the apartment is making me feel sick. I slide a cigarette out of the pack and roll the cylinder between my fingertips, wondering if it will make me feel better or worse. I let out an exasperated sigh and get up, heading for the bathroom.

In the medicine cabinet, hidden inside an ancient bottle of baby aspirin, is a twisted plastic baggie with a few brown rocks inside. I roll them between my fingers through the bag, feeling a rising anticipation. This isn’t good, I remember repeating to myself. This excitement isn’t good. I like this too much. But I’m still going to do it. I’m almost shaking in my haste to get the small rock out of the bag and onto a crumpled bit of foil. The bright flame from my cigarette lighter licks the foil, blackening its surface and I inhale the bitter smoke, holding it in my burning lungs for as long as I can. The rush of pleasure is so immediate that I have to clutch the side of the sink to keep my feet.

The air in the room is significantly cooler than the closeness of the bathroom and I enjoy the sensation of the sweat cooling on my skin from the cross breeze that’s coming in through the open windows. After a moment I realize Bard is watching me closely.

“You got high again?”

“What are we doing today?”

“I asked you a question, Sebastian.”

“Fuck, man. You’re not my mom.”

“You’re not supposed to cut into the supply.”

“It’s fine,” I said with irritation.

“Whatever. Look, I’m not your mom, but I’ve seen people die on that shit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Not to mention, if he catches you dipping into his profits, you’re going to get your ass handed to you. Not smart if you ask me.”

He had a point there. It was hard to think that far when I just wanted the temporary escape and a moment of peace from my own thoughts. It was so sweet to forget for as long as I could hold on.

“And I thought you wanted to buy a tattoo machine so you could apprentice with that grey-haired guy.”

The mention of tattooing was enough to lift some of the fog from my brain. It was typically all I thought about when I wasn’t thinking about how much my life sucked. Or how I was going to get out of another bad situation I had found myself in. Kind of like this one.

About a month ago, I started doing errands for a shady character named Lau. He had me running parcels from Chinatown all over the island for a good hunk of cash, under the table. As long as I was quick and didn’t ask any questions, I kept making money. Growing up in the foster system taught me how to keep my mouth shut and my head down, but it also made me into a bit of an opportunist. When the chance arose I would skim a bit from the packages; sometimes to sell, but more recently to use.

One of my errands brought me to a tattoo shop in Brooklyn called the Crypt and I met a strange man who called himself the Undertaker. I was immediately obsessed by the walls of flash and the kitschy horror movie vibe of the shop and broke my rule of staying silent and ventured to talk to the Undertaker.

He was younger than the long mop of grey hair led me to believe and had a decidedly strange demeanor, often just laughing to himself for no obvious reason. At first he seemed overtly morbid and possibly insane, but once I saw him work, watched as bottles of ink and bundles of needles turned plain flesh into living works of art, I realized his brilliance. There was a reason so many put up with his eccentricities. There was magic in the work of an artist.

I became a fixture at his shop and soon began cleaning up and running errands for him as well as Lau. For my fifteenth birthday he gave me my first tattoo, a koi fish in traditional Japanese style that I had come to admire. He explained that the tattoo was not only a beautiful image but a symbol I would carry with me for life. A koi can climb a waterfall without fear of the current and will face the knife of a fisherman without fear, much like a warrior facing a sword. Once the design was applied to my skin I felt like I had been imbued with some of these properties through my new skin and ink talisman.

He told me this and other stories about men who carried their own koi tattoos; Japanese warriors, bikers, gangsters, sailors and so many other artists he listed by name that my head was soon full of love for this craft. It was that day that I realized that I wanted to tattoo and I asked if it was possible.

“Is it possible? Anything is possible. What are you willing to do to make it possible? That’s the question,” the Undertaker answered cryptically.

“What would I have to do?” I asked.

“You’d need a machine,” he said kicking the little box at his feet. “And you’d need someone to take you on as an apprentice. You can’t learn this at school.” The last sentence dissolved into a steady fit of laughter.

“What else?” I asked when he became silent again.

“You need to draw every day. I mean, every day. You got me?”

“I can do that.”

The Undertaker nodded but said nothing else. He left me to figure out the rest on my own. I started to save every extra cent I had to buy my own machine, but I would get sidetracked occasionally by the work I did for Lau, skimming off tiny bits every time I wanted to get high, which was more frequent as time went on.

Bard never said as much, but I could sense that his patience with me was wearing thin. When I wasn’t at the Undertaker’s shop or running, I was lugging gear to and from music gigs with Bard. You would think I was busy enough to stay out of trouble, but eventually it still found me.


	22. Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can always go deeper and darker, but you can’t back off once you’ve gone too deep.

“Are you fucking sure about this?” Bard asked for the third time as I shaved the fine blond hair from his upper arm.

“Shut up, pussy. It’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.”

The Undertaker looked on with a steady giggle in his throat as I prepped my first human client for a tattoo. Before this, I had been relegated to pig skin in the form of random dismembered body parts gifted to me by my mentor. I was used to his style of teaching and knew that despite his inattentive demeanor, he was in fact watching and would step in with instruction-though perhaps too cryptically worded that it would take me some effort to unravel-before any serious mistakes were made.

The stencil went onto Bard’s skin easier than it had on the cold, stiff pig’s skin and I remembered what the Undertaker had said about tattooing a living client.

“The ink will go in easier, so you won’t need to push it so hard. Remember, they’re alive. Usually. And they can feel it. Whether or not you care about that is up to you, but remember not to go into it pushing hard. Keep your lines clean. You can always go deeper and darker, but you can’t back off once you’ve gone too deep.”

Of course, this was Bard, so I didn’t want to hurt him necessarily. Even if he was sort of like a pig.

When my needle first hit his arm and I saw how the ink exploded into the skin, I was so hooked I knew that I had found what I was meant to do. I was 17 and knew that I was on the right track. It was unfortunate that this same day a couple of cops would pick me up on my way out of Chinatown with a backpack full of heroin. I used my one phone call to apologize to the Undertaker and to ask him to put my gear someplace safe where Bard wouldn’t find it and sell it while I was gone.

My years as a courier came with the essential training to keep my mouth shut and I spent hours on end looking blankly at an assortment of police officers and social workers until my fate was decided. The attorney who was appointed to me pushed the fact that the backpack wasn’t mine and I had no knowledge of its content, but without a name of its owner, I was still tagged with possession. Somehow I escaped any charges involving my intent to sell. 

I served a year and half as a minor in a correction facility. The time away allowed me to finish my high school education. I also decided to learn as much about auto mechanics, strength training and also art, for good measure, as possible. It was college crash course in life that spat me out when I reached 18, somewhat worse for the wear, but a fuck of a lot smarter.

Bard was gone when I got out, but I found the Undertaker much the same as when I left him. He said not a word about what had happened or where I had been, but asked if I had been drawing.

“Every day,” I responded.

“Have you been tattooing?”

“No. There was no way to keep it clean.” Actually, I had many opportunities to tattoo in prison, but I couldn’t tolerate the idea of doing it wrong and unlearning any of the good habits I had built.

“Good. I saved you a pig.”

…

I pulled the mustang into the driveway of the house. It was dark and quiet and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Looks like no one is home,” Ciel said.

“Nope.”

“Just you and Bard live here?”

“And his girlfriend.”  Supposedly Paula lived here, but I hadn’t seen since my first week here.

I got out my keys and unlocked the door forgetting that Byron would be poised, waiting for the second that he could fling his 80 pounds of muscle into my tired body. “And the dog,” I said and I pushed the pesky thing back in the door, holding it open for Ciel to get inside. “Byron, this is Ciel. Ciel, meet Byron.”

The kitchen was a welcome sight and I when I threw open the fridge and saw that there was the still beer, my night got just a little bit better. Though looking over at the nervous boy standing on the edge of the linoleum floor made it even sweeter, particularly when he smiled as I came closer to offer him the cold bottle.

“Your pants are still undone, you know,” he said with that smirk that only pulled up one side of his mouth.

“That’s because you’re a tease.”

“Yeah, I am,” he said and the mischievous look on his face was too much. I found myself grabbing ahold of him and pulling him to me.

“I don’t like being teased, Ciel.”

“Um…”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah…”

“And I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better,” I said. He was nervous, but that wicked look was still there. I held his gaze until he spoke again.

“What did you have in mind?”

I had a lot in mind, but something was bothering me. He hadn’t taken the bandage off the tattoo yet, I could feel the tape under the thin cotton of his t-shirt. I sighed, regretting what I had to say. “Well, I would be remiss if I didn’t suggest that you take the bandage off that tattoo and wash it. I don’t want it to get infected.”

“Oh…”

“If you hop in the shower it’ll be easier. I’ll grab you a clean t-shirt and get a movie ready for when you come out.”

Maybe this would be for the best anyway. It had been a long day. I handed him a towel and started to walk into the living room when his voice changed, suddenly sounding deadly serious. “Yeah, that’s not happening,” he said, taking ahold of my arm and yanking me into the bathroom.

The door closed with a finality that said I was trapped. Ciel backed me against the wood with a hand against my chest, shoving me roughly. Before I could process what was happening his mouth was locked onto mine and my heart was racing. His mouth was so sweet and so eager that I was defenseless, opening to him completely, and holding onto his thin body as it pressed against my chest. I was completely out of breath when he finally released me. My mind was blank for a moment. Then I remembered.

“I still think you need to take the bandage off…”

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking fine, I get it. I’ll take a shower, but you’re coming in with me,” he said with obvious and overblown annoyance as he began to strip out of his clothes. When he went to pull off the t-shirt I saw he was in pain and I helped to pull the shirt over his head. Seeing his bare chest again made me hesitate. He was so incredibly perfect. So pale and delicate without being the slightest bit feminine. The musculature of his chest and arms was minimal but still intricately defined. I wanted to draw him. I wanted to study him. But I made myself look up and meet his gaze.

He had taken off his eye patch and I saw for the first time his face without the black covering blocking my view. He was breathtaking. It was a face I would never tire of looking at.

His hands slid under the hem of my shirt to rest on my bare stomach and I took off the shirt to make it easier for him. He looked over my naked skin, tracing my tattoos with his fingertips and making me shiver at his touch. While he was distracted I began to undress his tattoo. I could sense his annoyance, but I wasn’t about to let it get infected. Eventually he yielded to me and turned so I could remove the wrapping.

As I leaned down to throw out the bandage, he tried to swoop in to kiss me. I decided to see how obedient he was with proper motivation. I took his jaw in my hand before his lips could reach mine. “You’ll do what I say before you ruin the fucking thing,” I said. I held him still as I turned on the water in the shower. When it was warm enough I released him and offered another command. “Pants.”

To my absolute delight he jumped to attention with a keen “Yes, sir.” He wiggled out of his jeans in a way that would have been comical if I hadn’t been so absorbed in the revelation of his naked flesh. It took all of my hard-earned composure not to react when his already hard dick sprang out of his pants as he dropped them to the tile floor.

“In,” I said, ushering him into the shower before I could think of something better to do. When he hesitated at the edge of the water I gave his ass a firm slap to get him moving, satisfied with the whimper I got in return.

I stepped out of my jeans and pulled back the shower curtain and let myself place my hands onto his bare shoulders. My lips found the sweet spot of his throat, right below the ear, smelling the intoxicating scent of him before the hot water could wash it away. He sighed and leaned back, pushing his round little ass against me, and I folded him into my arms.

“You feel so good. I want to eat you alive,” I said.

“I wish you would,” he said. With a flick of his hips he managed to angle himself to rub against the head of my cock and I couldn’t help but push against him harder, matching his movement until he started to whine. I grabbed his hips and held him tighter and I could hear his breath coming in short, panting gasps. The more I squeezed his flesh and the rougher I was, the more he seemed to react. It was almost too much for me. It had been too long since I’d been with someone this tempting.

He struggled out of my grip and turned to face me, his lips finding mine and latching on as if I could provide the oxygen he seemed to need. His hands were desperate to claw at me, grabbing my arms, my shoulders, my chest and finally my ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. I was still focused on his distracting kiss when one of his hands wrapped around my cock and held it tightly between our stomachs for a moment before he started stroking me slowly. I had to pull away from his mouth to catch my breath.

I saw his face, watching me while his hand started working faster, carefully.

“I can’t even stand how gorgeous you are,” I said, quickly dissolving into an idiot as the warmth built up in my body. I kept my focus on his strikingly blue eye and the tiny droplets of water collecting on his dark lashes. It was a decent strategy until he began to lick the water off the center of my chest, working his soft tongue down my stomach. His cruel teeth nipped at my hip bones, and I thought he was almost growling as he did it. I smiled even as I let out a hiss of pain. He landed on his knees on the shower floor and I had a fraction of a second to brace myself against the shower wall before he swallowed me down.

“Ah…Ciel! Your mouth…” Goddamnit. I didn’t know what he was doing but it was amazing. His tongue was far busier than it had to a right to be. I couldn’t think and it was taking all of my concentration to stay standing and not to crush his head as I held it in my hand.

“How are you doing…mmph…Ci…how…fuck…ah…”

He was not relenting in his work and I was amazed at how much of me he could make vanish into that sweet little mouth. When my eyes weren’t rolled back too far to see him, I made an effort to focus on his face and met his eye for a split second before I realized that I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m…fuck…I’m going to…” I tried to get out in warning.

My admission only made him work harder until he was actually moaning against me, sending vibrations through my cock and sending me straight over the edge. I came so hard that my vision went black for a split second. Still he didn’t release me until I started to push against his shoulder. He sat back on his heels and looked up at me.

I pulled him to his feet and greedily took his mouth to mine, tasting the salty sweet flavor of his kiss. As my mind began to clear I realized that his tattoo had been in the hot water this whole time. With a pang of guilt I took a small squirt of antibacterial soap from the counter and washed the ink gently, rising away the excess pigment and dried blood until I could see it clearly.

“Out of the water. Now,” I said.

“Yes, sir.” He obeyed without question, hurrying out of the tub and waiting silently until I wrapped him up in a towel. Still dripping and still incredibly interested in seeing more of his perfect body, I pushed him out of the bathroom and into the cool hallway. He stopped dead and I looked up to see my roommate watching us from the kitchen.   


	23. Dream Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What was that?”
> 
> “Yes, sir.”

“Well, well, fucking well,” Bard said, obviously irritated as much as he was amused. “You two are getting along well, I take it?”

“I thought you worked until 12 tonight?”

“What time do you think it is? Did you lose all track while you were in there wasting water?”

The comment pushed me right over the edge. Why was I getting so much shit today? “You know, I’ve just about had it with people telling me what to do today.” I didn’t have to look behind me to know that Ciel was uncomfortable. “Ciel, go to my room.” To my delight he jumped at the command even though he had no clue where to go.

“Up the stairs and to the right,” Bard said, huffing with annoyance.

Ciel took off like a shot, clutching his towel and tripping half way up the stairs. I shook my head but admittedly it was kind of cute how flustered he was.

“Why are you being such a prick?” I asked Bard once I thought Ciel was out of earshot.

“Why am I being a prick? Why are you being a dick?” he retorted.

“Oh, I’m a dick? Was I supposed to ask permission before I brought a friend over, dad?”

“You are a fucking dick. It’s my house, I like to know who’s here and what’s going on. Who is this kid? He just showed up out of nowhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Mey-Rin are fucking obsessed with him and I never seen him before a few days ago.”

“Ooooh, so that’s what this is about,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and leaning against the wall.

“What?”

“You’re jealous that she’s paying attention to someone else and now I’m paying attention to him too.”

“I don’t care who you idiots are fucking, but I just want to know who he is before he’s in my house when I’m not home. What if he upset Byron?” Upon hearing his name, Byron looked up from his spot on the kitchen floor but settled back once he determined nothing was really happening.

“He’s a good kid, chill out. You’re acting like a dork right now.”

“He’s not…” Bard started to say but then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around the kitchen like he was suddenly lost.

“Not what?”

“He’s not into drugs, is he? He’s skinny as shit.”

“No.” I didn’t really want a lecture. What I wanted was to go upstairs and eat Ciel alive, but as every minute ticked by it seemed to be farther from my grasp.

“I just don’t want any trouble.”

“I get it. I don’t either.” I truly didn’t. But Ciel did feel like trouble, somehow. Something in the back of my mind was telling me that Bard wasn’t wrong.

“So what’s going on here?”

“What do you think?”

“You don’t just hook up. This isn’t like you.” No, that’s just what you do. Double fucking standard.

“I like him. I tattooed him today. And now I’m going to go upstairs.”

“Alright,” Bard said, turning to start putting groceries away and dismissing me. It definitely had the feeling of a conversation that wasn’t over, but I took the opportunity to escape anyway.

Stepping into my room, I first saw the wet towel lying in the middle of the floor, leaving a damp spot on the carpet. I bent down to pick it up, and then I saw the naked Ciel lying across my bed and my breath stopped in my chest for a second. His skin was so pale and flawless. He was lying on his stomach, arms under his head, the gentle curve of his shoulder leading down his back to his perfect, round little ass. The gentle movement of his breath told me he had fallen asleep. I can’t help but watch him for a moment. Are you trouble for me, Ciel?

Climbing into the bed I pulled a blanket up over his sleeping form and settled in next to him, not quite daring to put my arm around him, but still getting close. I place a kiss on his bare shoulder and he grumbles in his sleep. Despite my irritation at Bard and my disappointment at finding Ciel out cold, I find myself falling easily to sleep.

…

Sometime halfway through my third beer and well into the set of the second band, I became aware that I was being watched. As a kid with reason to fear the cops, I know the difference between paranoia and having eyes burn into the back of my head.

I scanned the shit-heap of a bar, looking over the crowd of punks and some of a braver crop of hipsters until I saw him. How the hell did I miss him before? He stood out like a dick on a cake.

He had on a smart black suit and his dark hair was short and neat. A pair of square, stylish glasses framed his face as he perched uncomfortably on a barstool, looking towards the stage. Twice when I glanced in his direction he caught my eye only to look quickly away when he realized he’d been seen.

The second band finished their last song of the set with a flurry of reverb and I decided to meander towards the bar. Did I know this guy? He didn’t look familiar to me. I leaned into the bar a few seats from him and dropped down my empty, gesturing to the bartender for another and I waited. I saw the suit shift nervously in his seat out of my periphery. I took my fresh beer, took a sip and turned to face him.

“What?”

“Excuse me?” he said, looking around as though I could have been addressing someone else.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“You get manners with that fancy suit?”

“I’m sorry?”

I shook my head and went back closer to the stage to wait for the next band to start. The guitarist and drummer were struggling to maneuver a guitar cabinet up the short set of stairs at the back of the stage. I didn’t miss having to lug that shit around for Bard.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” a voice said beside me. I turned to see the suit had abandoned his station at the bar and was now standing beside me.

“Who the fuck are you?” I took a better look at him. Now that he was standing, I could see that he was tall and kind of handsome with striking green eyes behind the small lenses of his glasses. He was immaculately put together even as he swayed just slightly on his feet. The term _straight-laced_ came to mind.

“My name is William,” he said with an air of formality.

“Look dude, I think you wandered into the wrong bar or something.”

“No, I heard the music and came in,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah? You like this kind of music?” I asked with no small level of incredulity.

“It’s interesting. The people are interesting,” he said. His eyes lock onto mine. “You’re interesting.”

“Ok. I get it. A little slumming on a Friday night is fun, but you should probably get out of here now.”

“Where should we go?” he asked, inclining his head to the side slightly.

“What? No, not we. You. You go on and get the fuck outta here before someone throws a punch and your face gets in the way.”

“Do you live around here?” he asks adjusting his glasses as he looks at me.

“What?”

Not twenty minutes later the suit is climbing the dingy stairs to my fourth floor apartment, looking around with curiosity like he’s experiencing some museum of how the other half lives. I unlock the door and stuff him inside before he can attract attention from any of my neighbors. He looks around my living room, nodding at the modest furnishing.

“Very neat. Clean. I wasn’t expecting that.” He seems to approve.

“I’m not a fucking animal,” I said. I shed my leather jacket and hang it by the door.

“No?” He cocks an eyebrow as he watches me.

“Just how drunk are you?” I ask.

“I’m not sure I can give an accurate answer to that question. Drunkenness is somewhat subjective. I’m too intoxicated to operate machinery. Legally intoxicated.”

Who the hell is this guy? I walk into the living room and throw myself onto the couch. “You can take your jacket off. Get comfortable. Want a beer?”

He removes his suit jacket and neatly places it across the back of a chair and then sits on the edge of the couch. He watches me with an attention that instantly becomes unnerving.

“You want something to drink?” I try again. He shakes his head. “What?” I ask with a bit of a bite in my tone as he continues to state at me.

“Tell me what to do,” he says simply.

“Get on your knees.”

To my surprise he leaps to obey, falling to his knees on the carpet in front of me.

“Kiss me,” I order. He reaches up, placing a hand on my thigh to steady himself. “No touching,” I warn. The hand is withdrawn and he works to balance as he reaches his mouth up to meet mine. The kiss is sloppy and desperate. I lock a hand against his jaw as I force my tongue through his lips. After a moment I make myself push him back. He settles back onto the heels of his polished shoes, looking up at me. Now this, this is interesting. I search his face for a reason not to continue this venture. Finding nothing good, I issue my next command.

“Take off your shirt.”

He begins to unfasten the silver cufflinks, setting them neatly on the coffee table. His long fingers begin to work the knot of his tie, slipping the length of black silk from beneath the crisp folded collar of his white shirt. When he starts to undo the first button of his collar I hold up a hand.

“Stop.”

He freezes, watching me. Waiting.

“Stand up. Do it correctly.”

He stands, a little unsteady, reminding me that he is in fact intoxicated, but maintains his composure as he works the stiff white shirt open, exposing his chest. I’m pleased to see that despite the business attire he seems to be in shape. It’s not just the cut of the fine suit giving him a nice form. The fabric slipped from his shoulders and he caught it before it fell to the floor, placing it neatly with the suit coat.

His shoulders are somewhat narrow, though they fit his tall, slender form well. I look him over as he watches me.

“Kneel.”

Again he drops to his knees before me, green eyes shining in the dim light. I see as they drift from my face down to the swell in my jeans.

“Do you want to touch me?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, please. Sir.”

“Ok,” I said and wait to see what he will do. His hand lands on my thighs and he pushes himself up to kiss me again. I allow the intrusion as his lips latch onto mine and his tongue spears my mouth. He’s hungry and I can taste his desperation and feel it in the trembling of his hands as they jump from my legs to my shoulders and down my arms, squeezing with cautious fingers. When they ghost across my chest I pull my t-shirt over my head. He stops, stunned for a moment when he sees the dense colored ink across my torso, but then his hands fall on my naked skin.

“I can feel the designs,” he said with amazement.

“Feel them with your tongue if you like.”

He takes the suggestion and immediately leans against my chest and begins tracing the edge of my pectoral tattoos and I let my head fall back against the couch, enjoying the sensation of his warm mouth on my skin. My hands settle on either side of his head, running my fingers through his short hair. It’s waxy with some sort of product, but feels soft. I can smell his subtle, expensive cologne and I smile to myself as I begin to exert a gentle but steady pressure on his head, pushing him down.

His hands carefully brushed the tight fabric across my crotch, timid at first and then rubbing his palm against the stiffness there. I lifted my hips and unbuckled my belt and he quickly took up the task of releasing me from the constricting fabric. His fingers wrap around the length of my cock like he’s being introduced for the first time.

“What’s the matter?” I asked with a bit of rasp to my voice. “Haven’t you ever sucked a dick before?”

His green eyes dart up to my face and he adjusts his glasses with his free hand. “Not with any frequency,” he said.

“Let me help you out.” I lift my hips from the couch and press his head down towards my alert and waiting cock. There’s a slight hesitation before his lips part and I’m encased in his hot, wet mouth. I hiss out a breath and let my head fall back as he starts to run his tongue around the length of me.

Despite the awkward start, he seems to find his rhythm fairly quickly and I am enjoying the increasingly insistent movements of his mouth and the kneading of his hands on my thighs. A steady moan begins to reverberate through his throat causing me to grasp the sides of his head to ease off the pressure for a moment before I lose it.

“Aaah, mmmm…easy.”

“What’s the matter?” he asks, looking up at me.

“You’re just a little too efficient.”

“You taste so good.” He takes another long pull on me with his mouth that has me clawing at his shoulders to brace myself.

“Jesus Christ! Haaaa…ok…” I push his head back and his sits on his heels and looks up at me questioningly. I take a moment to catch my breath and then issue another order.

“Lose the pants.”

He stands and brings his hands to his belt, sliding the supple leather from the shining silver buckle and then steps out of his shoes, neatly nudging them together with his foot. He slid the well-fitting trousers down before carefully stepping out of them and placed them on top of his other discarded clothing. His legs are toned and I take a moment to appreciate the way the black boxer briefs hug his thighs as he stands in front of me.

“Lose those too,” I said.

The careful calculation works its way across his face as he looks at me. He ultimately decides that it’s in his best interest to do as I say, and slides the cotton shorts off his body. He shifts a little uneasily, but his eyes are still burning into me with a need that leaves no room for self-consciousness. I make him wait a few moments, holding his gaze while I touch myself, watching him lick his lips.

I get up and stand face to face with him. He leans towards me, ready to place his mouth on mine but I catch his face, pinching it cruelly with my hand. My other hand moves down and grips his painfully erect cock, making him gasp. I take advantage of his open mouth and force my tongue inside. He melts against me like I knew he would and I break the kiss and roughly turn him around, one arm squeezing across his chest, pressing his body against me, while my hand continues to stroke him. His breath is coming in short gasps and his body tenses against me.

“You’re doing so well. Such a lovely specimen too,” I said with my mouth next to his ear. He’s trembling again as I press him against the couch. His hand reaches out to brace himself and he is almost whining and begging when I press myself against his ass. “This is what you wanted? You wanted to be fucked?”

“Oh god…yes.”

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir.”

…

I woke up realizing that I wasn’t in bed alone. The warmth next to me stirred, murmuring in the soft cotton web of sleep. My dick was so hard it hurt.


	24. Not Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How do you plan to appease me?”

I realized that it was Ciel in bed next to me and I felt a jolt of eagerness even through my sleep addled state. My mind and other parts of my anatomy were still very much stuck in my dream and remembering a night I had almost wanted to forget. Almost. I placed a tentative kiss on Ciel’s smooth shoulder not wanting to wake him, but not able to leave him alone.

He jolted up in the bed, shouting, “No!”

“What?”

He searched the room frantically for a moment and then looked at me, relief apparent in his face as he began to relax. “Sorry. It’s nothing. I was just still dreaming.”

“Sure?” I asked. He nodded and came to lie back down beside me, resting his head against my chest. I put an arm around him and I could still feel his heart pounding.

“Yesterday was a fucking mess. It’s not at all how I wanted this to go,” I said.

“Oh.”

“I expected to have time to hang out and get to know each other, but instead I’ve just made you wait around for me, bring me food and see me get pissed at everyone for being assholes.”

“I didn’t mind,” he said with a yawn. “And this is nice.”

He was so sweet and so lovely to look at, but as much as I loved having him snuggled against me, I wanted to toss him back against the bed and act out every perverse thought that was racing through my mind. I settled for trying to work through my apology instead while I gently stroked his back. “I still want to make it up to you.”

“Is everything alright between you and Bard?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just some male posturing.”

“Canadians don’t do that.”

“Well, kids from Brooklyn do,” I said. He started to breathe heavier against me and I realized he was beginning to drift off. “Hey…don’t fall asleep on me. I want to hear more about you. You still haven’t told me much.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“You got family here?” I tried again.

“No family.”

“In Canada?”

“None. I’m a system kid. No parents, no siblings.” He seemed uncomfortable with the admission, burrowing deeper against my chest.

“Same here,” I said. “Though I skipped the foster system and bounced around with my older friends until I was old enough to be on my own.”

“Oh.” His default response was not definitive enough for me to know what he was thinking, though he still seemed uneasy.

“It’s ok, you know.”

“I know. It’s fine,” he spat.

“Ok. I get it.”

I leaned in and gave his delicious shoulder, the shoulder I had spent hours over the day before, one more kiss and then got up from the bed.

“What are you, fucking Yakuza or something?” Ciel said from his nest of blankets and pillows, looking at my naked back while I found something to wear.

“That’s cute.” I pulled on some dirty jeans and left the room.

And he was cute, but maybe a little too moody for me this morning. Something about it wasn’t sitting right with me. Maybe it was some residual guilt from the dream and from Bard’s questions about this being a hookup, but something was making me uneasy.  

“Hey…” he called after me. I laughed to myself and went downstairs to get some food started. Predictably, I was absolutely starving. I knew Ciel would find his way down when he was ready and we could continue to figure this out.

Bard was already up and sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and a cigarette.

“What’s up, asshole?” I said on my way by his chair.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he grumbled. “Where’s your princess?”

“Still asleep,” I lied.

I began to gather some ingredients together to make breakfast when I heard Ciel come down the stairs and then sprint across the kitchen and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Check out the hot piece of ass,” Bard hollered behind him. “Damn. I wish my girlfriend had an ass like that.”

“Oh? Which one?”

“Pssh…fuck you. You know I mean Paula.”

“Who?”

Ciel emerged from the bathroom dressed in his clothes from yesterday, his eye patch neatly tied back in place. I was a bit sad to see his face covered again. I plated some of the eggs I had prepared and attempted to feed them to the skinny creature.

“Do you eat?” I asked.

“On occasion,” he said, looking at the plate.

“I’ve seen him drink booze but I think he’s too skinny to actually eat real food,” Bard chimed in. “I bet he’s a coffee drinker, though.”

Coffee I could do. I poured a fresh mug and put it on the table near the plate of food. Maybe that would entice him to eat. He picked up the coffee and took a sip, watching me.

 “So, what’s with the eye patch?” Bard asked.

“Bard.”

“I’m just curious. I noticed last night you had it off but your eye was shut.”

“It’s fucked up. I can’t see with it,” Ciel said.

“Lemme see,” Bard said.

“Bard!” I couldn’t believe I even had to intervene here. What was he trying to do?

“What? I’m just asking. He can tell me to fuck off if he wants.”

“It’s fine,” Ciel said. With a casual gesture he just flipped up the eye patch and opened the damaged eye to exhibit for the curious idiot. Bard looked and made a grunt of consideration.

“Huh,” Bard said. “How’d you do that?”

“Baldroy, I’m serious. Shut your fucking mouth.” I dropped my plate down on the table and glared at Bard, fuming with irritation. He met my glare without flinching and then pushed up from the table.

“Well, Kiddies, I’ve got work. Behave yourselves. Byron, you’re in charge.” Byron, per usual, took his responsibility with ease, not even getting up from his spot on the floor.

The kid ate a forkful of the eggs I placed in front of him and seemed to find them palatable. I watched the delicate way he ate out of the corner of my eye while we sat in silence. His hand was wrapped around the warm mug of coffee as though it were his lifeline.

“You don’t have to humor him. He can be an asshole sometimes, but he doesn’t mean anything by it,” I said. I was pissed at Bard and at myself as I replayed the confrontation in my mind.

“It’s fine. I’m not ashamed of my eye.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“No,” he said softly, turning to look at me in a way that made my heart jump in my chest. “I thought you had things to make up to me.”

“Yeah, I suppose I did say that.”

“How do you plan to appease me?”

“Appease you?” I smiled to myself while I took our plates to the sink. He was watching me curiously while I cleaned up the kitchen. I knew how I wanted to appease him, but after this morning I wasn’t sure it was an option. He came into the kitchen and leaned against the counter while I did the dishes, still sipping his coffee, watching me work.

“Can we go for another ride in your car?” he asked cocking an eyebrow at me.  

How could I deny that face? I locked up the house and we got in the car and took off for the coast and the curvy roads blanketed with fog. The sky was cold and gray, and the water was barely visible even as we pulled into the parking lot of the marina, though the waves were aggressive and loud against the rocks.

I looked at Ciel, huddled inside the hood of his sweatshirt. I could only see one of his pale cheeks and a few strands of dark hair, but he was still killing me. Even in his silence.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” I heard myself say.

“Heh…oh,” he said. He still wouldn’t look at me.

“I’m not used to you yet. Are you alright?”

He was quiet for a moment before he answered, seeming to think the question over carefully. “I guess I’m not used to you yet either. But I’m alright.”

“You’ll tell me, yeah? If I make you uncomfortable?”

I reached over to squeeze his hand, in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. He clutched my hand and then, turning toward me, jumped out of his seat and into mine. His knees settled, one on either side of my waist and he put his hands on my shoulders. That pretty blue eye blinked a few times and focused on my face from inches away. A sweet breath eased out of him as his lips curved into a small smile.

“I’m fairly comfortable,” he said and gave a little bounce of his hips on my lap. I grabbed his waist and eased him back just slightly from my increasingly tight jeans.

“Did you want to tell me more about how pretty I am?”

He started to kiss a soft trail along my jaw, which I tolerated until I couldn’t take any more and turned his face so I could kiss him. I realized that I had no control when I tasted his mouth. No matter how cautious I had tried to be, I was nearly crazy with my desire to have him and when I felt his complete submission in my arms and the grinding of his body against me, the feeling only intensified.  

“Still comfortable?” I asked, trying to catch my breath between attempts steal his.

He ran his tongue across my throat and then spoke into my ear with a slight rasp to his usually measured voice. “Yes, still comfortable. Aside from this…massive…hard-on…”

His vicious teeth nipped at me and I just about came on the spot. Only the irritation of having an outsider rap on my window broke the spell enough to prevent my disgrace. I turned just my eyes to see the man standing out in the parking lot, glaring at me. Ciel lapped his wet tongue across the bit of flesh he held between his teeth and I shivered. I was about to murder this idiot for interrupting.

I turned the hand crank and the window slid down a few inches, letting the cold, damp air into the steamy car.

“Yeah?” I said and Ciel bit down hard on my throat. “Mphm…can I help you?”

“This is a public park, sir,” the ranger said.

“What’s the problem?”

“Why don’t you just take your girlfriend home and we can both get on with our day.”

The suggestion and its implied language was enough to send me into instant fury. I felt Ciel freeze in my lap as the anger flared in my brain. He detached from my throat and turned to see the ranger outside my window.

“Well, my _boyfriend_ and I are in the middle of something here,” I shot at him, using as much restraint as I could muster. I saw his face color as he saw Ciel’s face and registered his gender.

“Um…you’re still going to have to move along or break it up, please.”

“Fine. Now get away from my car, please,” I dismissed the man, rolling up the window before my mouth said anything else.

I heard Ciel sigh as he shifted to move back to his own seat and I caught him by the hips and held him in place. His face turned to meet mine again and he looked at me questioningly.

“I didn’t say you could move, did I?”

“No, sir,” he said, looking so serious.

“Kiss me.”

Without hesitation his mouth fell on mine like he needed me to breathe. We picked up again as though we hadn’t been interrupted, his hips crashing against me in a way that made me groan. He had to finally pull back and take in a shuddering breath, leaning his head on my shoulder and panting.

“Did you just call me your boyfriend?” he asked

“You are kinda riding my dick at the moment.”

“Touché.”


	25. An Errand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This,” she says, stalking towards us in heeled boots. “Is not Claude Faustus.”

We pulled up to the curb outside of a small apartment building downtown, one of those large family homes that had been renovated and converted  to apartments, each tenant getting their own floor. The car was quiet while we sat for a moment.

“Can I see your phone?” Ciel asked.

I pulled out my cellphone and put it in his outstretched hand. His fingers flew over the screen as he punched in his digits and then held it out for me to take. When I reached for the phone he plucked it away, looking at me seriously.

“You’re not allowed to just vanish on me, ok? At the very least I’d like to see you on Friday.”

“Yes, I think that can be arranged,” I said and leaned over to place one last kiss on his lips. I watched him as he entered in the building and waited a few moments, thinking. It was confusing and somewhat aggravating how much I liked Ciel. This was not a normal reaction for me. I looked at my phone and the entry he had added to my contacts. Might as well lean into it.

“I think I’ll take you to dinner anyway. You can watch me eat. Tomorrow? _”_ I typed into the phone, pausing for just a second before hitting the send button.

I waited about 30 seconds before the phone pinged its reply. _“You can pick me up at 7.”_

“Where should we go?”

_“That’s for you to figure out. My job is to look pretty.”_

…

I managed to show up to work before Claude in the morning, and even went so far as picking him up a coffee on my way. My mind was occupied with the events of the weekend and the prospect of seeing Ciel again that evening. Admittedly the thought was putting a bit of sugar in my coffee, even if I hated myself for feeling so smitten.

“You’re pleasant this morning,” Claude said as he came into the shop, hanging his coat up behind the desk.

“I’m always pleasant.”

“Well,” he said. The look he gave me said he didn’t believe that. “Thank you for the coffee. Do you have any appointments scheduled for today?”

“I do not. I’m free to help you with whatever it is that you need,” I said, helpfully.

“Would you mind running an errand for me?” Claude began to busy himself around the shop, sorting through papers and powering on the laptop.

“What sort of errand?”

I immediately went back to my previous line of work running packages in New York. Back to a time when if I had a pen or a tattoo machine in my hand, my life was easy; the rest of the time it was hard. A time when old habits were easy to fall back into on lonely nights when too much whiskey had been drunk and too many thoughts broke the silence.

It wasn’t easy to stay sober in my chosen field of work and though I could often sense the Undertaker’s disapproval of my behavior, he never said anything outright. My skill increased despite my desire for self-destruction. Once I had a portfolio worthy of my mentor’s shop, I was able to attract clients at conventions based upon my own reputation, and it was at a convention in New Orleans that I first met Claude Faustus.

The Undertaker introduced us, nudging me toward the man with his peculiar qualifier that we should get along. What I later determined this to mean was that Claude also dated men. Though well meaning, the introduction merely scored me a new spot of ink and a connection, but nothing more. Not with that moody bastard. Another few conventions and another few chats while under the needle and he offered me a gig helping at his shop. I was desperate enough to crave a change of venue and my mentor let me detach with minimal complaint. In fact, not much seemed to faze the keeper of the Crypt. The world spun and changed around him while he toiled and puttered about his little shop, unchanging and uncaring; seemingly unaffected by time.

There was never any indication that Claude was in any business other than tattooing, but it never hurt to be cautious.

“I purchased some new equipment for the shop but I don’t have time to pick it up.”

“Yeah?” I leaned against the desk and watched him as he scrolled through his email, the computer screen reflecting in his glasses, obscuring his eyes.

“Yes. I know it’s not what you came here to do, but it would be a great help to me.”

“Yeah, alright. Where do I have to go?”

Claude reached into his coat pocket and handed me a set of keys. “Two towns over at an auction warehouse. I’ll text you the address.”

“You expect me to take your child molester van?” I asked jingling the keys at the nerd at the computer.

“Well, Sebastian, you can’t fit much of anything in that frivolous car you drive. Take the van and please be careful.”

“Alright. But if I get arrested under suspicion of kidnapping while driving that thing, you’re responsible. Get some bail money ready.”

“Sebastian,” Claude said with a delicious amount of exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose and then adjusting his glasses back in place. “Just don’t kidnap anyone and you’ll be fine.” He turned back to the computer, effectively dismissing me.

The van was parked in the small lot behind the shop that we shared with a florist and a record store. The black paint was somehow immaculate and the windows were slightly tinted. It looked like a molester wagon. I sighed and unlocked the door, preparing for my adventure. Turning the key made the radio came on, fairly loudly, with John Legend blaring at me until I could knock the dial back to silence.

“What the fuck, Claude?” I said out loud as I ejected the cd and stowed it safely in the center console, away from me. It was then that I noticed the purple scarf on the floor of the passenger side. I bent to pick it up, puzzling over its presence coupled with the music. Neither seemed likely in Claude’s vehicle. A smile crept to my lips and I turned to look in the back of the van. There was a pile of empty bottles, what looked like hard lemonade or something equally disgusting, as well as a blanket and a few pillows. Was Claude actually kidnapping children and subjecting them to pop music and malt beverages? Or did he have a boyfriend?

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as I pulled the van out of the parking lot and attempted to find a rock radio station that I could tolerate. What sort of boyfriend would Claude have? And why the teenage hook up in the van? Maybe he was a teenager. I checked myself for a moment wondering how old Ciel actually was. Relax, buddy, you picked him up at a bar; he’s over 21 at least.

The beach town I drove though was a tourist trap with motels with names like The Sand Piper and Sea Gull Landing, but most places were closed up for the season. Along the stretch of road by the boardwalk was a small amusement park with a boarded up midway and a silent and still Ferris wheel. With the van’s window down I could still smell fried food and saw a small lunch time crowd lingering outside of a food stall; the kind of place that was made to serve a horde of hungry beach-goers without requiring them to put shoes on their sandy feet to go inside of a restaurant.

I was reminded that I still needed to find a place to bring Ciel for dinner. What would that little brat actually eat?

I got to the warehouse about 25 minutes and 5 classic rock songs later, pulling around to the loading bay in the back and then wandering around to the front office to figure out what I was actually picking up. Still in the back of my mind was the idea that Claude had me doing something that he didn’t want to take the risk to do himself, but I had no real reason to suspect that. Just past experience. And a world full of shady characters.

As if on cue, a kid with bleached blond and dyed black hair came into the office from an open door, smiling brightly when he saw me. He was dressed in a pair of baggy shorts and a t-shirt and he looked like he had just been doing something sweat-inducing.

“Hey, can I help you out with something?” he asked with a voice as friendly as his smile.

“Yeah, I hope so. I’m picking up some equipment for Claude Faustus. This is the address he gave me.”

“Sure. Why don’t you come out back. I don’t handle the auctions, but Big Sis can help you out,” he said before turning on his heels and heading back out of the office.

Following his fast progress through the crowded and cluttered warehouse, we came into an open space that was outfitted with what looked like circus equipment. There was a wire strung up between two platforms where a freckled girl is balancing somewhat casually while talking to a rather curvy woman in all black.

“Big Sis,” the kid called out to the woman and she turns, her dark eyes landing on me with a slight scowl. “Do we have something for Claude Faustus?”

“This,” she says, stalking towards us in heeled boots. “Is not Claude Faustus.”

“Never said I was. I am just picking up for him.”

“Do you have a name?” she asked, standing directly in front of me.

“Sebastian,” a voice says from behind us. I turn to see a familiar head of orange hair and another welcoming smile. “This is the artist from Claude’s shop,” explains Joker to the woman with resting bitch face. He reaches forward to clasp my hand.

“Hey, man. How’s the leg?” I ask. Joker turns to show me his calf and I bend down to take a closer look at the healing tattoo. “Looks good. No problems?”

“None. You are exceptional,” he smiles again and I notice that the woman’s expression softens just slightly.

“So this is where you rehearse?” I ask as Joker brings me through the warehouse to find the items for Claude.

“For now. We’re renovating an old factory down on Harrison Point, but it won’t be up and running for another few months. It’s going to be a circus conservatory. In the meantime we’re borrowing some of the warehouse space from Mr. Kelvin in return for picking and packing in the warehouse.”

“Not a bad deal, I suppose.”

“Not at all. Beast takes it very seriously though.”

“Beast?” I ask with obvious amusement.

“It’s her stage name,” he laughs, and I keep my comments to myself.

Back in the van and headed to the shop, I have an old barber’s chair that took me and Joker to lift into the van with a significant amount of cursing, and two boxes of assorted junk. According to the invoice that the lovely Beast provided and I signed upon accepting the goods, the boxes were part of a lot that came from another tattoo shop. I paw through some of the contents and appreciate the vintage feel of the equipment. Claude has an eye for old school that my mentor would certainly appreciate, though the Undertaker’s old gear was actually his gear from when old school was the only school.

I grabbed one of the boxes and was about to head into through the back door of the shop when I spotted the purple scarf on the floor of the passenger side of the van. I picked it up and wrapped it around my neck.  

Claude was just finishing up with client at the front desk when I came up the stairs, crashing through the door with the large box.

“Despite your best attempts to have me arrested, I have returned,” I announced.

“There’s nothing wrong with the van, Sebastian. It’s a perfectly suitable vehicle for business purposes…” he stopped speaking when he looked up and saw me. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh, this?” I asked, flicking the soft purple fabric behind my shoulder. “I found it in the van. Thought it looked cute on me.”

He held out his hand and plastered an unimpressed look to his face. “Give it to me, please.”

“Why? Can’t I borrow it?”

“No. It belongs to…a friend.”

This is exactly what I was hoping for. I put down the box and lean against the desk, giving him my full attention. “What sort of friend? The kind that likes hard lemonade and sleep overs in the van?”


	26. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rather than admit my thoughts and expose myself as a professional pervert, I attempted to diffuse him with humor.

“Strangely, I don’t feel at all compelled to tell you,” Claude said settling comfortably into his stubbornness after snatching the purple scarf off me.

“I am hurt that you won’t share.”

“Why? Because you want to brag about your current conquest? Don’t be vulgar, Sebastian.”

“Vulgar? What’s vulgar about it? Are you ashamed of what happened in the van? You can tell me.” I smirked.

Claude continued to ignore me, refusing to feed me any more reactions. With an exaggerated sigh I went out to take a cigarette break.

…

I survived my work day in once piece and it was time to go to dinner. Driving to Ciel’s apartment I felt distinctly nervous. What was this? I hated to admit how much I had thought about the kid during the day. Now that I was pulling up at his address, a slight panic was creeping up into the pit of my stomach. I swallowed it down as I put the car into park.

Ciel appeared at the door of the building, a little shadow dressed in black, creeping towards my car until his pale face dipped down to look into the window, a flash of a shining blue eye and a small smile before the door opens and he floods inside with a draft of cool air. His scent and the presence of him in my car are already familiar. I must have made some sort of sound because he looks at me curiously before I stumble into an appropriate greeting. His hair falls over his face so I can’t quite see his expression until he turns towards me, giving me a full view of the smooth skin and sweet mouth that makes me involuntarily lick my lips. Everything about him is pure temptation to me. From the way he’s slouched in his seat, to the crisp white collar of his shirt against the soft black sweater, to the way he glances at me as I’m driving, looking me up and down before turning away again. I catch his gaze one time and he smiles shyly before laughing.

“What? Why are you looking at me?” he asked.

“I like looking at you.”

“Oh. So, where are we going?"

“I thought about it for a while and tried to imagine what you might actually enjoy eating.”

“What was your conclusion?” he glanced over at me, waiting.

“Thai food. I know it’s a little risky, but I had a feeling you might like spicy food.”

“Interesting theory. What evidence are you presenting to make your case?” I looked over to see Ciel watching me intently with no detectable reaction.

I loved that he was making me work for his approval. The shyness was gone and I was left with an entitled little earl in my passenger seat, waiting for me to perform up to his standards. I talked my way through the decision to go for Thai food and Ciel seemed content if not amused by my response.

“But that doesn’t explain why you think I would like spicy food,” he said tilting his head slightly as though he were trying to puzzle it out.

I smiled, feeling a rush of devilishness. “I’ve tasted your mouth.”

“So, I taste spicy? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“And sweet.” I was dying for another hit of that flavor.

No reaction as he considered my words. “I will allow you to feed me this Thai food, but I make no promises.”

“Promise to what, exactly?” I made a few promises to myself, but I kept them quiet. I’m sure it showed on my face because he cracked his stoic act with an amused smile.

“Why, I do believe you are trying to flirt with me Mr. Michaelis.”

“At least you caught on this time.”

The little prince made me order for him, refusing to even open the menu as he sipped his fruity cocktail. I reached over and stole the bright red cherry out of his glass as a penance, popping it into my mouth as I watched his pouting face.

My mind was in turmoil even though I was enjoying my time with him. I kept waiting for something about him to be spectacularly wrong, but he was pure perfection by every test I could throw at him. Why did I like him so much? It wasn’t merely attraction, though admittedly that was a strong factor. Before I could sort out my thoughts, my mouth was already talking

“I didn’t really know what to expect when I first met you. I wasn’t planning on liking you this much.”

“What exactly does that mean?” he asked.

“It means that I like you.”

“And what does that mean?” His tone seemed somewhat irritated, but his expression betrayed his curiosity.

I sighed out my frustration with myself and with him and his defensive wall, leaning across the table to reinforce my seriousness. “It means that not only do I find you attractive, you’re also interesting and charming. And hot as hell.”  

He was about to take a sip of his drink but ended up coughing as I said the last part, his face turning quite red. I let him compose himself, sliding an extra napkin across the table so he could wipe his chin.

“I don’t know what will happen in the next few weeks; my situation is a little temporary at the shop, and I wanted to be up front with you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, nodding, still blushing.

“I seem to make you uncomfortable,” I observed. Maybe I had been too honest with my feelings. I was never good at playing the game of subtlety once I decided I liked someone. Why be vague? Life is short and painful enough without having to wonder about such things.

“I make myself uncomfortable,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

His smile was intoxicating as was his enthusiasm once the food arrived to our table. I wasn’t sure how much was actual hunger and how much he put on to prove me wrong for the times that I had teased him for not eating, but he managed to put away a respectable amount of food. He drank just enough to be relaxed and talkative, but not so much that I worried about getting him back home. Though, when I thought about ending the evening, my heart started racing. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to bring him home, throw him over my shoulder and then down on my bed so I could act out every impulse I had been denied on Saturday night. But that was crazy. Why should he be my captive yet again? I had no intention of forcing this any faster than it naturally should go. Everything went so spectacularly wrong when I failed to exercise a little bit of caution.

So instead, I drove him back to his door safe and sound. I kept the car running. After a moment of quiet, Ciel turned to look at me in the dark car. “Aren’t you going to come up?”

Rather than admit my thoughts and expose myself as a professional pervert, I attempted to diffuse him with humor. “That apartment is tiny. I’d never fit.”

He huffed in annoyance and waited for me to say more before further antagonizing me. “Seriously? You’re just going to kick me out on the curb?”

I looked around outside at the street. It was empty, no people in sight but it was not the best area, though still safer than parts of Brooklyn. “There’s no way I’m leaving my car parked here over night. This neighborhood is sketchier than you are.”

He deftly ignored the slight and kept trying. God, did I want to give in to his pleading. What could it hurt? Just go up and see what happens. Spend the night doing exactly what I wanted to do. I shook it out of my head. I would wait and it would be better for both of us.

“No one said you had to leave it here that long. Just for a little while,” he said, in full-on pout. Lip quivering and everything.

“You’re insane if you think I could only stay for a little while.”

“Oh.” That one word was so endearing. I caught his blushing face with my hand and kissed his surprised mouth. He gasped into me, leaning against me as though he could change my mind. Nice try, boy.

“Now, get out of my car.” I said, breaking away before I could toss him into the back seat. “Please.”

He shook himself, shivering out of his daze and whispered, “yes, sir,” as he got out of the car. I laughed to myself, even as I lamented the fact that I had just turned down the opportunity to follow that up to an empty apartment. What a fucking idiot.


	27. My Name is Mud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey motherfucker!”   
> I turned just in time to catch a wooden baseball bat across the face.

Wednesday. What a bullshit day. I have no use for a day like Wednesday. Lying in my bed I held my phone and looked at the last text exchange I had shared with Ciel on Monday night after I had left him at his apartment. Alone.

_“Thanks for dinner. It was nice.”_

“I’m glad you liked it.”

_“Why didn’t you want to come up?”_

“I told you why.”

_“I don’t think you did,”_

I should have written something back but I was at a loss. Maybe I needed more time to think through this. I pulled myself out of bed and made my way through my workout before heading to the shop. I had a few surprise clients who kept me busy and kept my mind off of Ciel and his enticing blue eye and his hard won smile.

That evening was when everything went to shit.

“Oh my God! Would you look at this place? Is this really all yours Claude?”

I could hear the unfamiliar and unexpectedly cheerful voice coming up the stairs and breaching the door to the shop. Claude’s deeper voice murmurs a reply that I can’t quite hear, but my head snaps around to see as the pair come into view.

Claude is practically beaming-or as close to it as that stoic motherfucker will ever get-as he leads a slender and perfectly disheveled blond slice of trouble. The boy’s skinny jeans were artfully torn and dirty, topped off with a retro t-shirt and an open cardigan. His hair was deliberately messy and covering his face in a way that made me cranky. Pale blue eyes darted around the room and zeroed in on me like they were magnetized.

“Who! Who is this?” he chirps, dragging Claude over to where I’m standing, putting away bottles of inks and supplies.

“This is my colleague, Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Alois.”

The blond shot off of Claude’s arm and came to take my hand in an exaggeratedly delicate handshake. “Sebastian! Look at you! And you smell good too.”

“So, this is your friend.” I said to Claude while giving the blond an appraising look from stem to stern.

“Alois, give him some air.”

Alois laughed, throwing back his head, showing a set of perfect white teeth and a slender throat. He looked like the kind of sin that would come around to bite your ass, but would be too much fun in the meantime.

I gave Claude a knowing look but he didn’t reward me with any acknowledgement.

“Is Sebastian coming out with us tonight?” the blond asked sweetly, still looking me over with too careful a gaze.

“I’m sure he has his own plans,” Claude said.

“Plans? Does he have a girlfriend? No…” Alois smirked, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “A boyfriend!”

“I believe he is seeing someone,” Claude said in an obvious effort to detach the boy’s attention from me.

“I knew it! What’s your type? You’re so tall and handsome, I’m sure you could have your pick.”

“He’s sort of an artsy gothic type. I think he also had a French name. What is it Sebastian?”

“Ciel,” I said before I could stop myself. I didn’t want to discuss my confusing attraction for the kid with these two idiots.

Something darkened in the blonds face as he looked at me. It was subtle but unnerving. Before I could figure it out, Claude pulled Alois away to show him around the shop. The boy squealed and fawned over Claude’s artwork handling everything he encountered. I made a mental note to come in early to thoroughly disinfect my workstation before I took any clients.

I stepped outside for a cigarette and picked up my phone, reading the last messages between Ciel and me. I typed a message and then erased it again. I watched the screen until the phone went dark and then stuffed the device back into my pocket. By the time I went back into the shop, Claude and his prize were gone. The silence was welcome; I breathed it in and then obliterated it with some _Loud, Young and Snotty_ while I prepped for my last appointment of the day.

It was after 10 when I locked up the shop and lit a cigarette, the final slender black clove that Ciel had tucked into the pack when I wasn’t looking. I walked to my car. There usually wasn’t room in the small lot behind the shop and I lived in fear of some careless delivery truck slamming into it, so I parked on a little side street most days. It was a quiet one-way street with a row of brick and brownstone townhouses along one side and a little gated cemetery on the other. I enjoyed the quiet as I walked, watching the way the light and shadows fell on the old gravestones and hearing the October wind in the trees. I was completely unprepared when a voice came from a little alleyway right as I passed by.

“Hey motherfucker!”

I turned just in time to catch a wooden baseball bat across the face.

“Aaaargh! What the fuck!” Luckily the blow wasn’t hard enough to knock me out. Or perhaps my skull was pretty thick. Either way I was able to shake off the shock quickly and saw a face smirking at me from the shadows, bat still held at the ready.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD KID!” I yelled.

“You touched my property. You can’t have him you vile piece of shit!” The blond took another swing at my head but I was ready this time and caught the bat, wrenching it out of his hands.

His face went from surprise to a realization that he was suddenly in trouble as I gripped the bat and let a devilish smile curl my lips. I let my height and bulk work to intimidate the little shit.

“You. Are. Fucking. Dead.” I said it calm and quietly and it seemed to rattle Alois more than my yelling had.

“Ciel is mine. He’s damaged property. I marked him.” He spat a few more insults at me before retreating down the alley and vanishing.

Once I was sure that the danger had passed, I unlocked my car and got inside, closing and locking the door behind me before I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. I could already feel my face starting to swell up and felt pain from the blow now that my rush of adrenaline was starting to fade.

The pain in my head was nothing compared to what I felt as I began to think about what Alois had said.

So there it was. The other fucking shoe dropping. I knew something was coming, but this was fucked up.

After the flare of anger subsided, I picked up my phone and sent Claude a message.

“You’re a fucking asshole. Enjoy your psychopath.”

That should be sufficient notice that I wouldn’t be at work tomorrow.

I threw the car into drive and got onto the highway as quickly as I dared. I drove into the dark, without thought, heading south and away from the lights of the small seaside city. I turned up the radio until I couldn’t hear the sounds that I was making as I tried to control my breathing and the grinding of my teeth. I drove until my face throbbed and I felt my eye start to swell completely shut and then I pulled into a rest stop.

It was after midnight and only two other cars occupied the lot. I rested my head back against the seat and closed my eyes and let my brain process the event of the evening. Sleep had almost crept into the quiet of the car when I heard a gentle tapping on my window. I turned to see a young girl shivering in a pink tank top and a pair of jeans, dirty blond hair tucked behind her ear. I rolled my window down just far enough to hear her talk.

“Hey, you need company?” she asked. How old was she? 14?

“No, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“Looking to buy?” she asked, shifting tactics.

“What do you got?”

“Little bit of everything.” She was bouncing in place now, trying to stay warm.

“Junk?”

She fished into her purse and palmed a small plastic package, showing me against the window before closing her fingers around it again.

Back in the silence and solitude of my car, the girl having returned to where ever she came from, I rolled the small baggie between my fingers. Instead of the steady anticipation I was expecting I only felt slightly sick to my stomach. I tucked the package into my glove box, lit another cigarette and pulled back onto the highway, reversing my direction and heading back to Bard’s house. I was tired and empty and not sure at all what I wanted.

“The fuck….?!” Bard said as I walked into the kitchen. He pushed back from the table so fast that he knocked his chair backwards, making it clatter against the tile floor. The noise and movement startled Byron who had been lying at Bard’s feet under the table. I had to contend with both of them barking while I went to the freezer and got a bag of peas and then sat down at the table. It felt good to finally put something cold on my face.

“You were fighting? You fucking idiot!” Bard set his chair back up and sat down, glaring at me.

“Not exactly.”

“Don’t lie, Sebastian. Not to me.”

“I didn’t even throw a punch.”

I gave Bard the CliffsNotes version of what happened, leaving out my drive out of state, but including the strange words Alois had spouted about Ciel.

“Damn. You stepped in some shit, bro. Did you talk to him yet?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“I suppose he’s good looking and all, but do you think he’s worth the trouble?” Bard was trying hard to understand and I appreciated the effort even though I was too exhausted to think about it, let alone talk about it.

“I guess I’ll have to figure that out,” I said, getting up from the table and heading for my room. Unfortunately I would spend more time thinking then sleeping that night and I came to no solid conclusions.

The next morning the swelling had gone down but I had a fabulous bruise blooming across the side of my face.

During the day I sent two calls from Claude into voicemail, where he left no messages. I considered what equipment I had at the shop and whether Bard might be willing to get it for me, but decided I wasn’t that much of a pussy. I just needed a few days to cool off before I could talk to that asshole.

Part of me wondered what horrors that little blood nightmare was subjecting Claude to, but if his dick got him into that trouble, he could get himself out again.

By the time Friday evening came around, I knew I had to see Ciel. I pulled on some jeans, a t-shirt and my leather jacket and followed Bard downtown to Sanctuary. Ciel was standing at the entrance, his slender back to me as I approached. My heart was racing as I reached out to touch him.

He turned towards me, a smile leaping to his striking face as soon as he saw me. I see him take in the sight of the bruise, most of which is behind a pair of sunglasses.

“Yeah, I know,” I said before he can ask. “Can we take a walk before we go inside?”

“Of course,” he said softly.


	28. Fuck me and marry me young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brute got on his knees and took it like a champ.

We walk back onto the main street, away from the crowd that is accumulating in front of Sanctuary and Sebastian is quiet. I wait but my mind is running wild with thoughts and speculation. When he does finally turn to me and speaks, my confusion deepens.

“Do you know a punk by the name of Alois?” he asks.

I search my memory but the name is not familiar and I shake my head.

“Well, he knows you.” The comment hangs in silence for another block.

I walk until I couldn’t take it anymore. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“Claude shows up to the shop with this little blond twink…”

At the mention of blond hair my brain shuts down. I flash to that glimpse of flaxen hair in Etain slipping through the back exit. I shook it off and waited for more information, but I must have shown a reaction because he looked at me all the more intently.

“You do know him,” he said. He took off the glasses to look at me and I could see that his right eye was badly bruised and swollen, though healing, the bruise yellowing; still a complete tragedy in his gorgeous face. At least we matched now, I thought humorlessly.

“What the fuck?” I reiterate.

He grabs my shoulders and holds them and I realize how badly I’m shaking. “Ciel, it’s alright. I’m not mad, ok. I just want to know what’s going on.”

I’ve obviously concerned him more than I realized. What do I look like? I’m shaking my head. No, it’s not him. There’s no way he’s followed me here.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Okay,” he said. We kept walking, his hand sliding down my arm until he was squeezing my hand in his. His concern was evident in the gentleness of his tone now compared to how he began the conversation.

“Wednesday afternoon Claude brings his new pet to the shop. Not sure why, but the kid fixated on me immediately and wouldn’t leave me alone. Claude told him that I was apparently taken. Your name was mentioned and the kid apparently snapped.”

I’m quiet for a moment before I can ask. “What does he look like?”

“Short blond hair, small like you, maybe a little taller. Blue, blue fucking eyes.”

I shake my head. There’s no doubt now. Thinking that he was anywhere near Sebastian or even in the same city is too much.

“Is he your ex?” Sebastian asks quietly.

I shake my head. “He was my roommate,” I begin. “Well, I don’t even know how to explain it. But you have to stay away from him, he’s completely insane.”

“I gathered that much.”

“What did he do?”

Sebastian hesitated and I could see the thoughts sliding around behind his eyes. I could see when they finally settled and he decided to tell me all of it and get it over with.

“I knew Claude had been seeing someone. He’s usually fairly quiet, but we had a few conversations about our new interests. He knows I’ve…” he paused and squeezed my hand. “He knows that I’m interested in you,” he said diplomatically.

“There was a band playing, and despite his irritating habit of turning my music down, he enjoys seeing live music. Apparently this kid was in the band or with the band or something and Claude became infatuated with him. He brought him to the shop to show off, maybe to impress me. Or maybe to impress him. Either way, I was there when they showed up and the kid wouldn’t leave me alone. Claude finally had enough and took off again.

“Everything was fine. I finished work and then headed back to my car. Apparently he waited for me. Caught me with a fucking baseball bat. It took every ounce of control not to beat the snot out of him.”

“He hit you?” I asked.

“Yeah. I didn’t hit him back, but I think I scared him.”

“What did he say?” I was beyond thinking. My brain was frozen, yet still I heard the words coming out of my mouth. Does it matter what he said? It’s obvious what’s happening, it’s obvious that I didn’t escape him. And this, whatever this is that might have been with Sebastian is now over.

“He’s said not to touch you. That you were, what’s the term he used? Damaged property.”

I pulled my hand away from his and began to mentally withdraw as well, feeling sick. I nodded. “He’s right. I’m so sorry he hurt you.”

“Hurt me? I’m not worried about me. I’m fine. What the hell is going on here?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got to go.” I tried to leave but Sebastian had my hand in his again, letting me feel just how strong he was when I tried to pull away.

“I know I don’t know you too well, but I’m not letting this drop. Not when there’s obviously something fucked up going on. And not when some little asshole is hitting me with a fucking bat.”

“Why didn’t you just kick the shit out of him? You could have.”

“I’m damaged goods myself,” he said. “Quit pulling away. You’re not going anywhere.” His calmness and the strong, steady pressure of his hand actually worked to take the edge off my panic and I let out the breath I had been holding and just stopped.

“Ok,” I said.

“Are you going to quit freaking out and listen to me?”

“Yes.”

He seems somewhat relieved though still obviously concerned by my mental state. We went a bit further down the sidewalk and Sebastian pulled me over to a bench where we sit down.

“Do you want to tell me?” he asked.

I’m shaking my head before I can even verbalize my answer. “It’s not your problem.”

“I appreciate you not wanting to drag me into you problems, but I’m already involved.”

The gentleness of his voice was enough to make my eyes sting as I fought to keep my composure.

“He’s right. I can’t escape it, I guess. I’m damaged and he’ll always have that over me.” The admission made everything pour out of me like vomit after a night of poisoning. “His name is Jim. Jim Macken and he was my roommate for years back home. But to say roommate isn’t exactly right. We were very close. He took care of me.”

I could see Sebastian trying to understand, fighting with himself and his initial reaction of anger. “He took care of you?”

I nodded. “He was like an older brother to me. I trusted him and he took care of me, only sometimes he was very controlling. No. Not sometimes. He controlled me, absolutely.”

“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly.

I nodded again. Sebastian’s hands were balled into fists at his sides, but he said nothing.

“He followed me here. Why did he have to follow me?” I asked no one in particular.

We sat in silence for a while until Sebastian turned to look me over. It was cold and I huddled into the short jacket that Mey-Rin had dressed me in. I felt a bit exposed sitting there, but waited patiently to hear what Sebastian would say. I waited to see if he would leave or if he would let me run. His hand still held mine loosely but when I tried to withdraw his grip would tighten.

“Alright,” he said.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.” He stood up, pulling me to my feet.

“What? Where are we going?”

“To the club.”

“Oh.”

I let myself be pulled down the sidewalk, not looking where I was going, paying no attention to anything but my own thoughts as I tried to puzzle through what was going on. Before I knew it we were through the doors and maneuvering through the lobby. Half of the crowd looked at the other half as they were parsed into the basement line and the concert venue. It looked like a hip-hop show was about to start on the stage, but we followed the stream of black-clad patrons down to the back stairs.

The basement club was just beginning to really fill up when Sebastian and I descended, receiving the required marks upon our hands and surveying the room. Despite the likelihood, I still was scanning for signs of Jim Macken. Or Alois. Whatever he is calling himself now.

Almost immediately, Mey-Rin slams her little body into me and would have knocked me on my ass if Sebastian hadn’t been there to absorb some of the impact.

“Have you seen how incredibly hot Ciel looks tonight?” she asks Sebastian while hanging off my arm.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he says with a smirk. He takes a step back and gives me an appraising look with a hand crooked under his chin. “I suppose he is a fine piece of ass.”

“Psssshaw! More like the finest piece of ass.” She pulled me to her ample chest for a bone crunching squeeze, and then looked up at Sebastian and without missing a breath. “What happened here?” she gestured to his bruised eye. It was harder to see in the darkness, but still visible.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“Is Ciel getting too rough? I figured he was a little bit of a freak in bed.”

“I wish I knew,” Sebastian said under his breath, but he threw a bright smile in her direction.

“Is something wrong, sweetie?” Mey-Rin asked me, whispering in my ear. I could smell alcohol on her breath, but she still smelled sweet and felt soft as she leaned against me.

“No, babe. Nothing is wrong, I’m just a little tired,” I said, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Is Bard going to DJ tonight?”

“He’ll be up in a few minutes.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek before flying off into the crowd again.  I watched her for a moment, literally skipping as she reached the DJ booth.

Sebastian was a solid shadow behind me. I didn’t have to turn to see that he was there. I could feel him like we were touching through there was space between us. I watched the dance floor for a moment and let the loud music overwhelm me, letting the steady beat of the bass and the hypnotic digital drums distract my mind from the impending doom I felt was lurking right around the corner.

“Can I get you a drink?” Sebastian asked, leaning close. I could feel his breath against my cheek. I nodded and he headed to the bar without another word. The crowd seemed to part easily for the tall man and the bartender was reaching out to clasp his hand in a bro-greeting before he even reached the bar. Moments later, Sebastian returned with a sweet mixed drink complete with cherry skewered on a neon plastic sword.

“How many of these will it take to get you to relax?” he asked with a playful smile.

“I don’t know how you can be alright with any of this.”

“What other option do I have?”

“You could get the fuck out.”

“Ciel, are you for real? Do you think some little shit with a bat is going to scare me off?”

I turned so I could see his face and meet his eyes. Even in the dim club lights he was the most incredible looking specimen that I had seen in a long time. He took a drink of his beer and I couldn’t help but watch his throat as he swallowed. Somehow I lost my train of thought.

“At least five,” I said finally.

“What?”

I tossed back the drink and I held out my empty glass. “I’m ready for number two.”

Sebastian dutifully took the empty and shook it at Mickey the bartender who saw and nodded as Sebastian approached.

While I waited, feeling the first drink working itself into my blood stream, a very sweet smile came to greet me.

“Hey, Ciel!” Finny said.

“Hi sweetness.”

“I guess Mey-Rin’s friend is about to go on soon.”

“That’s what I heard.”

As if on cue, Bard’s gruff voice cut through the PA.

“Hey you creepy motherfuckers. Are you ready for some real music?”

A shout of approval issued from the dance floor.

“Are you fucking dead out there?” came Bard’s angry reply.

This time the provocation seemed to whip the room into a minor frenzy that only intensified as the vocal shriek and chugging guitars of “Just One Fix” began to leak through the speakers. The dance floor became a mob of bouncing and pushing bodies. I saw Finny smile widely and then allow himself to be absorbed into the crowd, happily playing with the other dancers. Not an ounce of violence in the seemingly aggressive movements, the kicking and punching never making real contact with other bodies.

Then I felt a body make contact with mine as Sebastian pressed himself against my back one arm circling my waist and the other presenting my fresh beverage. I settled back against him as I accepted the drink, letting his movements sway me to the music. His arms pulled me closer as he felt me relax, accepting his touch. I tried to ignore the peace and safety that he made me feel for fear that it would be ripped away as soon as that blond nightmare decided to make another appearance.

Or when he realized that these damaged goods really weren’t worth the trouble.

Mey-Rin swished her cinched waist through the crowd to stand in front of us. In her black painted finger tips she held two test tube shots filled with bright green liquid. She put the base of one of the tubes between her lips and wagged her eyebrows. I shrugged and detangled myself from Sebastian and opened my mouth. She daintily tipped her head toward me until the mouth of the test tube was between my lips. With a hand atop my head she pushed down until I was on my knees and the shot was completely tipped into my mouth. I swallowed the sour apple liquid and she laughed like a school girl as I got to my feet, wiping a hand across my mouth.

“Now that’s probably a familiar sight, huh?” She beamed at Sebastian. “You want this one, big guy?”

Sebastian declined, but like magic, Bard appeared, mouth open, throwing a wink my way as Mey-Rin lined up the next shot for him. The brute got on his knees and took it like a champ.

I let Sebastian feed me two more drinks before I demanded that we dance. When the inescapable beat swept over me and the words couldn’t help but flow out of me like snow in a whiteout. I’m whispering in his ear as I writhed against him, swishing my body to the music.

“Snow on the river and two by two; took a lot to live a lot like you, I don’t go there now, but I hear they sung their ‘fuck me and marry me young…’”

My hip is pressed against his groin as he moves and I can hear him growl as I clumsily dig my hands into his waist, pulling him as close as I can. When I dare to look up and meet his eyes, I’m pulled in as though my lips are magnetized and we are suddenly entwined, mouths locked and working, trying to devour. I can’t hear the music over the sound of blood rushing in my head.

Soft breasts crash into my back followed by arms groping my middle and a squeaky voice in my ear.

“Hey guys! Leave a little space for the Lord on the dance floor.” She extended her fingers and tickled Sebastian’s stomach. He was not amused.

“Oh my god, he’s like a rock!” she whispered in my ear.

She cackled and withdrew from my person and skipped back up to the DJ booth to bother the next spinner on deck as he put on his first track, letting us know that the string of good music was over.

“I think I’d like to get out of here,” I said.

Sebastian nodded and followed me up the stairs and out of Sanctuary, out onto the cold city night.


	29. Deeper Into the Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian’s mouth curls into a deliciously wicked smile and he laughs. “Here I am. Now what will you do?”

The sound of him heaving a heavy sigh in the darkness near me is enough to make my heartbeat speed to what I could only guess was an unhealthy pace. I steal a glance at his face, seeing the angular jaw in profile before he turns his head to look at me. Eyes going from neutral to half-lidded as they fix on me. Seeing me, seeing him. It’s a look that you only see on the face of someone when they know for sure they have you. It’s a look of possession, one of impending conquest that says that he knows there’s no room to back out. I’d be crazy to even try.

“Well…” I start to speak but my mouth is suddenly very dry.

“You are such a dork. Could you relax?” Sebastian said, placing a kiss on my forehead. He tossed his jacket down on my couch and went into the kitchen, making himself immediately at home.

“Sorry, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting…” I try again.

“Expecting what?” He begins to dig through the refrigerator, pulling out items and inspecting them. “Why is there no food in here?”

“I don’t really cook.”

Sebastian shuts the door and gives me a disapproving look. I walk into the kitchen and lean against the counter top to be closer to him. I’ve had enough to drink that I feel like the room is slightly soft and my vision floats before it settles on his face.

“There’s a bottle of wine behind you.”

“Wine isn’t food,” he said.

He’s looking at me again with that steady fixation that turned my insides sloppy. The careful scrutiny makes me feel entirely too self-aware and nearly naked. I watch a smile curve his lips into another level of deviousness.

“Umm. Shall I open it?”

How long is he going to stare at me like this? If only there was something to distract him before I find out exactly what he’s thinking. Even alluding to it in my own mind was making my knees weak.

“I could order a pizza?” I suggest.

Still no response. This must be what a gazelle feels like trying to get a drink at the water hole while the lion watches. Someone in a car outside lays on their horn and I jump nearly out of my skin. My reaction elicits a small appreciative laugh from Sebastian.

“Come here, Ciel,” he orders.

I have no choice but to obey. When he calls me, I come running. He already has that power over me without even trying. I move to stand in front of him, tilting my head to look up and meet his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks. It’s making my chest hurt to see the way he’s looking at me. This mix of care and hunger is more potent and enticing than anything I had ever encountered. He's asking me if I'm alright when he has the bruised face.

I try to speak but nothing comes out. It’s like being in one of those dreams where you can’t scream, only instead of terror, it’s frustration holding me down.

“What’s the last thing you ate?” he asks.

“I had a chocolate bar.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Seven maybe?”

“Ciel, that’s was over six hours ago and not really food.” Sebastian turns and redoubles his efforts to locate some actual food in my kitchen. After a few minutes he has a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of me with a glass of milk.

“Tomorrow we’re going to the grocery store,” he announced. “I can’t live like this.” His tone is sarcastic as he busies himself cleaning up the kitchen while I eat. I’m still amazed at his presence in my apartment and too dazed to do much more than stare at him. As I process his words I start to react.

“Tomorrow? Live?” It’s so unfortunate that what comes out of my mouth rarely encompasses what’s going on in my head.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

I finished eating, not daring to leave anything on my plate, and Sebastian immediately washes the dish and puts it back in the cupboard. When he turns back to look at me I feel as though we are back to square one. His eyes are making me crazy. They are such a strange, unearthly color and they dig into me so sharply that I feel it in the pit of my stomach. The excitement and the anticipation of being the focus of attention of someone who seemingly doesn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything else was an overwhelming feeling.

“I knew you’d fit,” I said.

“…eh?”

“You said you wouldn’t fit. That the apartment was too tiny, but here you are.”

Sebastian’s mouth curls into a deliciously wicked smile and he laughs. “Here I am. Now what will you do?”

I don’t remember making a conscious decision to move before I find myself pressed against the giant in my kitchen. My arms snake around his neck pulling him down to meet my lips, which he is only too happy to engage. With little provocation, his lips part to let me in, tongue sliding slowly over mine, sucking and pulling at me until I have to separate for a second to breathe.

His arms grasp my hips and he lifts me, turning me and setting me down on the counter top. Now I’m level with his face and looking into his eyes from inches away. His hands still hold onto my waist squeezing slightly, the flexing of his hands making my breath hitch in my throat.

“So you were flirting with me,” I said.

“Yes, little one. I was indeed flirting with you. Still too subtle?”

“No, no. I think I’m starting to pick up on the signals you’re putting out.”

“Because I’m happy to be more explicit.”

I swallow hard, feeling the heat rushing to my face. “Ha…well…”

“I could for instance tell you exactly what I would like to do.”

“Oh. Ummm…”

“I could explain how I’m going to pick you up off of there and carry you into the other room.”

“The other room?”

“Yeah.”

Sebastian’s hands squeezed my waist hard enough to make me squeak. His lips curled into a smile.

“Oh.”

“Is it alright if I pick you up again?”

“To the other room?”

Sebastian nodded and began to pick me up from the counter, sliding an arm under my legs and the other around my back to lift me up. Once he had a solid grip on me he stopped and looked down at me. My heart was racing as I clung to his chest.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good because I have more plans for you.”

“Oh…”

The apartment was small enough that it was only a few steps for Sebastian to carry me before he could throw me down on my bed. It was a mess with blankets and clothes in an untidy pile but Sebastian didn’t seem to mind. He stood in front of me for a moment and that look of possession was back on his face. His ruddy brown eyes were half-lidded and expectant, making me forget my own name as he looked down at me.   

“I seem to remember that the last time we were alone you were more hesitant.”

“Not by choice, little one.” Sebastian said. He leaned over me, his long torso covering me, arms on either side of my shoulders. “There are no interruptions this time.”

I realized he was right. We were really alone this time.

His lips touched mine, brushing gently for a kiss before they moved across my jaw, leaving a trail down to my throat. He was humming contentedly as he continued to pepper my skin with soft kisses.

I couldn’t help myself. My hands had a mind of their own as they began to tear at his clothing, first pulling the shirt up over his head and launching it off into the room somewhere far away, and then falling onto his belt, frustrated when it wouldn’t budge at this angle.

Sebastian brought his knees up onto the bed, straddling my hips and unlatching his belt, the buckle clicking as the leather fell aside. I redouble my efforts and soon have his jeans down enough that I can see his sharp hipbones and run my hands along his flat stomach down to where the trail of dark hair vanishes behinds his pants.

Never in my life have I wanted anything more than I wanted him in that moment. My hands were trying to get under the tight fabric of his jeans and he laughs at me quietly. He takes my wrists in his big hands and gently pulls them away, bending to kiss my hands and then along my arms, pausing to run a thumb over the bend, making me squirm.

“That tickles! Let me go!”

“No. I don’t think that I will.” Instead of his thumb he runs his tongue across the sensitive bend of my arm, kissing and sucking at the skin until it started to turn red.

“What are you doing? I demand you let me go!”

“You’re in no position to make demands, little one.”

“You’re driving me crazy!” I trashed around under his weight, laughing until I couldn’t breathe. When his hand crept up inside my shirt and slid up my chest I stopped and sucked in a deep breathe.

“There, see? It’s alright.” The look on his face told me that it was just to the left of alright. But, fuck, did I want whatever he had for me, and whatever I had to do to get it.

My shirt was roughly removed by my own clawing hands, giving the perching incubus better access to my desperate skin. His hands were warm and rough with calluses, long fingers digging into me, testing and feeling. Despite my efforts, I could go no further. I was trapped under his hips straddling mine tightly when I tried to wiggle out of my jeans.

“You are so impatient.” Another chance for his lips to meet mine, and he’s leaning into me, going deep until I am completely useless and undone. “That’s better,” he said.

Sebastian steps down off the bed, his weight suddenly gone from my body. I stare up at him, my brows furrowed in annoyance at being denied. Seeing the way his jeans hung low on his hips, showing me his naked, tattooed skin is turning me into a complete idiot. Somehow I manage to have the brain cells left to unbuckle my belt and he begins to pull on the legs until the fabric slid down my hips. I hear them fall to the floor with a thud of the heavy belt, and then a second sound of rustling fabric before Sebastian is sliding his naked body up along mine.

His hands frame my shoulders and he looks down at me. I can feel the steady pressure of his cock digging into my thigh and I can do nothing but open my mouth as he kisses me again. A finger loops through the string of my eye patch and pulls it away from my face and he kisses the newly exposed flesh, carefully, and then moves down of my ear, ghosting his lips across my skin.

“Is this alright?” he asks.

“No…” I gasp when I can breathe again.

“No? What’s wrong?”

“You’re torturing me!” I whined and was rewarded with a quiet growl of a laugh. When he had his fill of finding me hilarious I sunk my teeth into his shoulder. The laugh turned into a groan as I sucked on the colorful skin. A warm hand was between us now, fingers wrapping tightly around my cock. My teeth let go of his flesh and just panted against his shoulder for a moment. I realized that he had shifted his weight and his knees were spreading my knees apart. His erection was rubbing my inner thigh and pushing against more sensitive parts of my anatomy but I couldn’t think past the movement of his strong hand holding and working me.

“I would very much like to fuck you,” he whispered.

“Goddamnit. Now you’re being subtle again with my dick in your hand?” My words dissolved into an incoherent sound as he began to push against my ass, his hand still moving, making my brain feel fuzzy.

“Ha…mmm…that’s less subtle.”

Without warning he picked me up by my hips and flipped me around, arms squeezing me, his face pressed against my back. My ass was now up off the bed, held by his hands on my hips. I let out and embarrassing squeal of surprise that had him laughing again. When his hand wrapped around to stroke me again, I didn’t care that I was acting like an idiot.

His hand was so warm, the palm so big and his fingers moving and tensing so perfectly that I lost it almost immediately. I had about one lungful of air to gasp out. “I can’t…shiiiit…I’m gonna…” before I came in his hand. I was rewarded with kisses along my heaving shoulders as I struggled to catch my breath.

I pressed myself back against him, rubbing against his cock until he finally started to press one then quickly two fingers inside me, moving and stretching me. I rocked back against him, begging for more contact until his fingers withdrew and he pressed himself inside of me with an amazingly hot groan.

The sensation of being filled was something I hadn’t felt in a long time and never with anyone like Sebastian. I tried not to think of the size of what was impaling me and to just relax, but his hips started to slowly move and I couldn’t control the sounds coming from my mouth.

Even though he was being gentle with me, kissing my neck and shoulders even as he moved in me, rolling his hips in a controlled rhythm, I knew how strong his hands were and how easily he was able to move me. It wasn’t long before I was demanding rougher treatment.

“Please, Sebastian. Please…I won’t break.”

“So tight,” he grunted with a rough thrust. “Fuck…”

Only his hands held me up. My legs had gone completely useless, unable to hold my weight and he seemed like he was beginning to lose his grip the harder he worked me. My vision went white and I was completely undone by the sounds coming from him. I felt him falter and start to slip, his hands grabbing me tighter, hugging my waist suddenly hard and tight against him, filling me to the point of delicious pain.

“Oh, Jesus Christ! Fffffuuuck…”

I could feel him let go inside of me, his arms tensing, almost squeezing too tight. His body went still for a moment, his cock still throbbing hotly before he eased back and separated from me.

He fell back onto the bed with a long, satisfied groan that made my spent dick twitch. His warm eyes rolled over to me and his arms gathered me up, pulling me to his chest. I submitted like a rag doll, letting myself be moved.

“Are you alright?”

“Are you kidding? I think I saw God for a second there.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Sebastian laughed, still blissed out and sex-drunk.

He lifted my chin and kissed my lips softly. My eyes had drifted closed now that exhaustion and contentment had found me.

“Ciel?”  I opened my good eye enough to see his face.

“Hmm?”

Even in my state of incapacity I sensed that he was struggling with something. I pushed it away from my brain and snuggled into him. Eventually he pulled a blanket over us and seemed to settle. Before I drifted completely to sleep I thought I heard him say something more, but I couldn’t be sure. Did he really say what I think he said?


	30. Everything You're Breathing For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t need to stress, little one.”

“This really isn’t necessary,” Ciel said. “You already bought breakfast.”

We wandered the aisles of the grocery store, Ciel’s hands wrapped around the handle as he pushed the little market cart ahead of him. I had already filled half the basket with more food than the skinny thing had probably seen in his lifetime.

“Typically, one eats around three meals per day.”

“I don’t know what to do with any of this stuff.” Ciel’s brow furrowed as he looked at the cart, obviously distressed at the thought of being abandoned and surrounded by strange produce.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I had no intention of leaving Ciel alone. Not when that crazy blond fuck was still running around with Claude. Even without the fierce need I felt to protect him, I didn’t want to be anywhere but near him. Despite all bounds of common sense, I still wanted him more than I could stand.

Last night had begun with my resolution to figure out exactly who Alois was to Ciel, and why I was assaulted. I didn’t want to admit it now, but it was also to see if his response was weighted enough to keep me from leaving. It would have been so easy to just go. I’ve done it before. Once I saw him, and watched him dissolving into panic, there was no longer a question of what I wanted to do.

Then the rest, well that was something else. I had finally gotten him alone, and I couldn’t wait to do it again. I was smiling now like a bit of an idiot. I turned away from the cart to look through the bakery to locate a loaf of bread to go with the meal I was planning.

“What exactly is the plan here?” he asks. The cart comes to a stop as he turns to look at me.

“For dinner?” I’m being deliberately evasive, hoping to avoid a throw down at the grocery store.

“No, Sebastian. That’s not what I meant.”

His expression is killing me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but that brain is working behind that calculating blue eye and it’s watching me closely. I pick up another loaf of bread and squeeze it a little harder than I mean to before returning it to the shelf.

“I don’t know exactly. What would you like me to say?”

He kept his gaze on me and I met it despite my discomfort. His arms crossed over his narrow chest and I knew I was in trouble. A nearby shopper glanced from one of us to the other and quickly moved her cart by. It would have been comical if I wasn’t truly worried.

“I’ll make desert,” I offer.

“You can’t win me over with desert,” he said and takes up the cart again, pushing it away from the bakery and toward the checkout line. “What kind of desert.”

“Chocolate hazelnut torte?”

I see him raise an eyebrow, but he says nothing. In fact he says nothing until we are back at his apartment, each with a plastic bag full of food to carry up the narrow stairwell to his door.

“What are you going to do about your car?” he asks randomly as I unpack the grocery bags. I’ve made myself comfortable, putting the food away and searching through cabinets and drawers, seeing what I have to work with.

“Hmm?”

“Your car. You said you wouldn’t park it on this street, but you seem to be settled in here.” He gestured to the pile of food I still had out on the counter.

“It’s still at Bard’s house. It’ll be fine there for now.”

“Because you didn’t drive to Plague last night, did you?”

“No, I rode in with Bard.”

“Because you were drinking?”

“That’s right.”

Ciel made a soft sound but said nothing else for a while. I began to put together a pasta and vegetable dish, slicing zucchini, onions and red peppers to roast in the oven while I waited for some water to boil. Ciel watched all of this from his perch upon a stool on the other side of the counter.

“Are you really serious?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” I glanced up before bending to slide the pan of colorful vegetables into the oven. His face was serious, which triggered my desire to tease and provoke him, but I held back to see what he would say.

“You want to stay? With me, I mean.”

“Yes.” It was a simple answer, but I had to push it further. “Should I have asked you out? I don’t have a class ring or a letterman jacket to give you.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“You don’t need to stress, little one.”

He looked about ready to respond when his phone went off, startling him.

“Shit,” he hissed and put the phone to his ear giving me an apologetic look. “Hey…yeah, I meant to text you and…yeah…baby, I’m sorry! Mey…Mey-Rin, will you…yeah…yes, he’s here. No. No. No! Will you shut up. Ok.” He hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Girl trouble?”

“We kinda left last night without telling her and Bard.”

I laughed, though I was glad that he had someone checking up on him. “She seems like a handful.”

“More than a handful. That girl is stacked.”

“Is that your thing? Tiny waist and big tits?”

“Can’t really argue with a proven aesthetic like that, can you? Or this one,” Ciel said and came to stand behind me, pressing his body against mine as I worked, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Hmm, appealing to my sense of vanity. Go on.”

“Well, you’re made of lean, tight muscle and you’re what, eight feet tall?”

“Six-one, but go on.”

“You are as hot as a rock star with a jawline I could cut myself on.”

“You could try,” I said, loving the way he teased me. “Wait, which rock star?”

Ciel hummed against my back, rocking me slowly to the music that filled the small apartment. Something soft and sweet that I wouldn’t have guessed he would choose with purring vocals and clean guitar. It seemed to soothe him and was working alright on me too.

“Umm…” he mumbled against my back. I could feel his warm breath through my t-shirt.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get that. Who do I look like?”

“No one. Just your incredibly hot, handsome self.”

I disengaged from his arms to put the pasta into the boiling water, distracting his attention just long enough that I surprised him when I turned and picked him up by the waist and sat him down on the counter top. I leaned in so we were eye to eye and licked my lips.

“You said a name.”

The boy swallowed hard but met my gaze. “No, sir.”

I put my hands on either side of him and leaned in a little closer.

“You said…”

“Nope,” he shook his head, color going to his cheeks.

“But you did…”

“No…”

“Yes, you did. Just say it again.”

“Dave…” he squeaked.

“Hmmm?”

“Nothing! I’m wrong, you don’t, it’s fine. Everything is cool. No need to get excited,” he said, cheeks blazing red and a smile cracking his otherwise serious composure.

“You’re going to pay for that, you know?”

His laugh was so surprising that it made my heart skip a beat. I looked at him, tilting my head and cracking a smile myself. I realized that I had never heard him laugh in true amusement in the time I had known him. As soon as it started he seemed to reel it back in and compose himself, but I had still seen what I suspected was a rare occurrence.

“Sebastian?” he asked, his expression back to his serious, composed and capable self.

“Yes?”

“You’re serious?”

“I don’t follow,” I said. My mind went through the conversation and realized he was referring to my presence here. I let him speak while I gathered my wits.

“You want to stay?”

“I can tell you what I want, but it’s a long list at the moment. However, at the top of that list is being here now, with you. I don’t need any commitment or assurance from you. Not yet. Just relax and just be with me. Everything else will shake out.”

He held my eyes steady and I waited until he was satisfied. His hand reached out to touch the side of my face and I leaned in to kiss his silent lips. So sweet I could have stayed there for days.

The phone in his pocket went off again and he pulled back from my lips. I fought the urge to snatch up the phone and launch it across the kitchen. He had the phone to his ear and began to utter a greeting before I heard the female voice say, “I’m coming over,” before hanging up. Ciel lowered the phone and looked at it curiously before looking at me. The hiss of water hitting the stove made my spin back to the over-flowing pot of cooking pasta.

“I’m sorry,” Ciel said. He still sat on the counter, legs swinging against the cabinets below.

“For what?”

“For what’s about to happen.”


	31. Wear the Crutch LIke a Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, but if the other dude is hot enough, a dude might just have to brag a little.

Mey-Rin sounded more serious than I had ever heard her. The fact that she chose to call me rather than text was as telling as her actual words. I could only guess at what manner of torment waited for me at her petite hands and formidable vocal cords. 

I watched as Sebastian tended to his dinner preparations with an impressive amount of skill. No one had ever really cooked for me before. I had no real interest in food as anything other than an annoyance when my stomach was empty, but admittedly, the roasting vegetables smelled pretty good and I could feel my stomach respond to the scents that filled my tiny apartment.

The man swayed with fluid movements from task to task, tending and cleaning. He set out two plates on the counter in front of me, glancing at me where I sat on the counter top, sending a shiver down through my spine when those ruddy eyes met mine. Then he turned and grabbed a third place setting.

“God, no. Don’t offer to feed her, she’ll want to stay,” I protested.

“She’s a friend. Of course she can stay.”

“No,” I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip.

“Yes, little one.”

I relented in my remonstration at the use of my newly received pet name. Despite my usual displeasure at being seen as small, I didn’t mind the term coming from the tall man who also seemed to enjoy picking me up. The line of thought brought me to the memory of last night and the absolute insane need I was feeling to do it again as soon as possible. My eye was following his lean, muscled body and I felt like every flex and ripple of flesh was meant to drive me into a frenzy of lust.

“Do you suppose you could stop that for like ten minutes?” I heard myself ask. Somehow my dick had taken control of my voice.

“Stop what?” he asked without turning to look at me. 

“Cooking or whatever?”

“Why?”

“Come here, Sebastian,” I said.

He stopped and regarded me with a slightly puzzled expression but did as I asked. I widened my knees and he came to stand between them so he could be closer and I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him to me tight. I rubbed my face against his chest, smelling the particular spicy and warm scent of him and feeling how solid he was. 

Unbeknownst to me, my hands had found his belt and had worked it free. Sebastian leaned into me, pulling me into a deep, slow kiss that left me sighing. My hand worked its way down and was coaxing the already responsive member into something I had to have. Oh god…soon. Before I went completely crazy with the way his mouth was sucking and pulling on mine like he wanted to drink me down. His hands moved to my hips, squeezing me hard and making me moan. He was tempted to pick me up, I could tell by the flexing of his arms. I was about to lock my legs around his waist and force him to take me off this counter when there was an excessively loud pounding at the door. 

“Oh fucking Christ on a cracker. Not now.”

“You knew she was on her way over,” Sebastian whispered against my throat, giving it another few quick kisses before pulling away from me.

“Fuck all kinds of ducks.”

Sebastian laughed to himself at my pain and discomfort as he straightened his clothes and went back to cooking as though he didn’t have a hard on that could cut glass. Maybe he just had super human control over his dick. I’d have to look into that.

“Ciel fucking Phantomhive. Let me in before I take this door off its hinges,” Mey-Rin greeted me with another round of knocking.

With a final huff of annoyance, I hopped down off the counter and answered the door. Instead of one unwelcomed and irritated friend, I saw two. Bard stood behind the petite cock-blocker, his arms across his chest.

“Babe, listen. I know I fucked up, but now isn’t the best…” I began.

Mey-Rin looked me over, her bespectacled gaze lingering on the still apparent bulge in my jeans. At least they were tight enough that I wasn’t sporting a tent.

“You have some explaining to do, Ciel,” she said as she pushed past me and came into the apartment. Bard gave me the barest of apologetic looks before following behind her. 

“Hello, Sebastian,” Mey-Rin said as she took a seat on my couch, pushing aside my jacket and a pile of debris left from the previous night. 

“I’m about to serve dinner,” Sebastian said, oozing friendliness and charm as though he were just here doing his job. He set out another plate on the breakfast bar that was the closest thing to a table that the apartment had. 

“Great, I’m starving,” Bard moved into the kitchen and Sebastian handed him a cold beer from the fridge. “This guy is a great cook.”

“Aren’t you a chef?” I asked glad to have a distraction, even if it was meant to be short lived.

“I make pizza, kid. It’s not exactly haute cuisine.”

“Once he did attempt Boeuf Bourguignon during his French phase. What happened, Bard?” Sebastian asked with a smirk. “If I remember right, it took a while for your eyebrows to grow back.”

“Yeah, keep talking, fancy boy. Every time you open your mouth my dick gets homesick,” Bard replied. 

Both men laughed and I knew that whatever tension existed between the two had dissolved, or at least lessened to tolerable levels. I glanced at Mey-Rin and caught her scowling at me and realized that I would not be getting off so easy. 

I sat down on the couch beside her and then moved a little closer until our knees were touching and I could see her angry little face under the fringe of red hair. She turned to me suddenly and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me right into her lap until we were snuggled together. 

“Are you going to explain to me what’s wrong?” I asked quietly, accepting my fate and cuddling against her soft body.

Sebastian and Bard were busy giving each other a steady measure of shit and Mey-Rin sighed, burying her face against my shoulder. 

“You scared me,” she said finally.

“What?”

“I knew something was going on with you the way you were acting and then you left and Bard said someone was after you.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that this encounter with Jim would affect anyone else, but of course Sebastian had told Bard what had happened. Why wouldn’t he? Last night I had been so absorbed in my little world with Sebastian that I didn’t think about anyone or anything else.

“I’m sorry, honey. Everything is okay. Nothing happened last night.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” she asked, squeezing me tighter. “I know we’re relatively new friends, but I love you, you little asshole. If something is going on, you should tell me.”

“Are you done?” I asked. My face was dangerously close to being stuffed between her breasts, which only seemed slightly awkward and unwelcome.

“Yes, I’m done you prick. But we’re not square just yet.” She whispered into my ear. “What’s going on here? Did he come home with you last night?”

I matched her volume, pressing my face against hers so close that we might as well have been kissing. 

“Yes, and I was about to hit that again before you came barging in here.”

“I totally saw your boner. Not bad.”

“Bitch, don’t even.”

“I’m going to need details, but now might not be the time.”

We both looked up at the same moment to find that Sebastian and Bard had stopped talking and were watching us closely, each holding an open beer and wearing a different version of the same amused smirk.

“Would you tell your boyfriend to get his face out of my girlfriend’s tits?” Bard elbowed Sebastian in the ribs.

“Oh, but I thought you were dating Paula? That seems to be going so well,” Sebastian said with a wicked grin.

“Mey-Rin will always be my one true love, isn’t that right, babe?”

“Eat a bag of dicks, Bard,” the redhead returned.

“Ouch,” Sebastian hissed.

I cleared my throat and unwrapped myself from the lady’s grasp, offering her a hand up once I had gained my feet. Mey-Rin kept hold of my hand as I led her to the make-shift table and Sebastian plated our meal. Despite my natural inclination, the food did smell divine and I was feeling a little hungry. The counter only sat two, so Bard and Sebastian stood like the gentlemen they were, while Mey-Rin and I ate. It didn’t seem to slow the men down as they attacked their plates.

After dinner, Mey-Rin and I promised to wash up the dishes while Bard took Sebastian back to the house to grab his clothes. Sebastian made it plain that he would be staying with me for a little while and Bard seemed fine with the new arrangement. As soon as the door closed behind them and their heavy steps were moving down the first flight of stairs, my girl was on me to spill my guts.

“What the fuck is going on? For real please. I heard Bard’s version, but he’s completely full of shit,” Mey-Rin said, abandoning her job of dish drying.

“I didn’t want to ever talk about Jim again and now I’m talking about him again in less than 24 hours.”

“Does this have to do with your eye?” she asked carefully.

I sighed and put down the wet plate that I held in my hands. “That’s basically it. He went psycho and attacked me. Now he’s here, running around like an escaped mental patient with a baseball bat.”

She shook her head, eyes wide behind the thick lenses of her glasses. “And he’s dating Claude?” she asked.

“I guess so.”

“Who is he? Did you…?” she began, but I knew the rest. Did I date him? Did I fuck him? How far into this crazy mess was I and what had I done to deserve this treatment? I wondered that often enough myself that it kept me awake at night.

“Not exactly. It’s not an easy relationship to explain but we were close and I did care deeply for him.”

“So, he’s stupid enough to go after Sebastian? How is the bastard still alive? Bard would have handed his ass back to him in a pizza box.”

I just shook my head. What could I say? I didn’t understand it myself. There was this odd bit of caution and restraint inside of Sebastian that seemed unnatural or artificial somehow. Every time I encountered it, it surprised me and made me feel suspicious. Sebastian seemed so perfect and I was falling for him so hard that I knew something would fuck it up. It was apparent that my life was not meant to be a happy one.

“Sebastian seems very into you. Not that I blame him.” She paused, looking me over as though she were really assessing my fuckability. “And you finally sealed the deal this time?”

“You really want the gory details?” I asked, already feeling the heat in my cheeks just thinking about telling Mey-Rin any of the actual details. A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, but if the other dude is hot enough, a dude might just have to brag a little.

“Well, you left without saying anything. I figured you were either getting laid or being killed,” she paused. “It was a confusing night.”

“What? Did something happen?” I was suspicious now. She obviously wanted to tell me something. I leapt at the chance to shift focus from myself and to put her under the interrogation light for a minute. There was definitely something going on here and it seemed like she wanted to tell me.

“Last night,” she started and then stopped. Her cheeks were actually getting red. She reached for her glass of wine and drank the rest of it down before blurting out the rest. “I went home with Bard.”

My mouth fell open. “You what? Where was Finny? Whaaat?”

“I don’t know! It just sort of happened and now I don’t really know what to do here. Bard’s always been in love with me and I’ve just given him an open invitation. And you weren’t there. And Sebastian wasn’t there to be his voice of reason. It’s kind of your fault!”

“Holy fuck! What?” I was still in complete shock. “How?”

She sighed heavily and poured another glass of wine and leaned her shapely butt against the counter. I watched as she pulled herself together piece by piece until her shoulders straightened and she looked up at me. “It’s not the first time. He’s very persuasive and a great lay. Charming motherfucker. I was maybe a little too tipsy and we were the last ones there, locking up the club, and I just got into his truck,” she explained.

“So, what about Finn? Did you talk to him?”

“Oh God no! No, I haven’t said a word to him since he left last night.”

“But you seemed to be getting along so well.”

“We still might,” she tried to convince herself, looking intently at her glass of wine.

“Bard seems a little attached to you.”

“Ugh. I know. I think I fucked up, Ciel.”

“So, he’s good, huh?” I nudged her with my elbow and made her crack a little bit of a smile.

“I’ll tell you my battle story if you tell me yours. I have a feeling you had a pretty great time by the way you’re limping today.”

“Excuse you! I am most certainly not limping. Don’t be crude.”

She gave me a look that said I was the one being ridiculous and it was my turn to look embarrassed. “You realize what next Friday is?” she asked.

“Another chance to completely fuck up our lives?”

“Close. It’s Halloween and it’s Plague night.”


	32. Delamorte Delamore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can’t live on memories alone.

Mey-Rin and I managed to finish off the wine and were both buzzed and tired, leaning against the counter as we talked through our battle stories. I provided more details than I meant to, but got an impressive bit of information about Bard. I started to understand why Mey-Rin had strayed from poor, sweet Finny. She didn’t come to any solution to her problem but decided that she would have Bard take her back to her own apartment when he returned with Sebastian. Sebastian, who was going to be coming back here.

Here in my apartment. With me.   

My face was on fire. I couldn’t even look at the tall, ridiculously gorgeous man when he walked back into my apartment. I felt his presence as soon as he came up the stairs and I smelled his familiar scent as he came through my door. There was no denying the pull he had on me.

Mey-Rin detached herself from the kitchen, setting her wine glass down and picking up her coat as Bard lingered by the door. No one said a word, letting the strange silence hang in the air. Apparently, Mey-Rin and I weren’t the only two hashing out some shit.

I gave the girl a quick squeeze and she kissed my cheek.

“You ready, babe?” Bard asked and the redhead nodded. “Thanks for the meal. We’ll see you kids later,” he said as he ushered her out the door.

Sebastian closed the door and set his bag down on the floor behind the couch. I heard him take a long breath in the quiet of the room and realized that we were alone again.

His face, in profile, was one of the most perfect things I had ever seen with its high cheekbones and a sharp jaw that made me bite my lip. Here was an example of how nature could create heartbreaking symmetry in the most unlikely places. Then there was the pale skin, coupled with jet black hair and warm dark eyes that bottled up an impressive bit of intelligence. Those eyes held something deeper than the visual organ had any right to.

He caught me looking and he fixed his gaze on me. “Hey,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, my brain already deciding to abandon me for the evening. A smirk lit his face and he sat down on the couch, completely at home with himself and with me. I wondered how any of this was remotely possible but found myself moving my exhausted body towards him, collapsing onto the couch and into his waiting arms. My body fit so perfectly into his and my mind was so immediately silenced that I couldn’t help but feel that I was coming home.

“Do you want me to put a movie on? Something with zombies?” Sebastian asked. I could feel his voice rumble through his chest where I rested my aching head against him. He ran a hand through my hair slowly, working his fingers into my scalp and making my eyes close. I couldn’t quite make myself answer his question but instead made a humming sound, which seemed to entice him to keep talking. “Or we could watch something less gory if you’d prefer?”

“No, put on whatever you want,” I said when it was apparent that he wanted me to say something.

The television flickered in the dark living room and the sounds of a movie started, filling the room with horror movie sounds and grim music. I glanced at the screen and saw the shambling dead cross the cemetery with dubious intent.

_“Franco is the only living person who even calls me. Now and then, I stop by his office to remind myself what he looks like. You can’t live on memories alone,”_ says the smooth and even voice on the screen.

I felt warmth surrounding me, pressing me, holding until I felt myself drift down into sleep. Somewhere music was playing, soft and eerie, spoken over by a few different voices. The rise and fall of the solid chest under my head and the hand with its long fingers running slowly through my hair had lulled me into a blissful state. Somewhere Francesco Delamorte was protecting the cemetery from returners while encountering his true love. My mind settled into an ossuary of decaying thoughts and brittle emotion that only that strange state between wake and sleep seems to provide me.

That was when I saw his face, drifting up through the dark like a spirit. Jim Macken. No, not anymore. I suppose that name didn’t really suit him anyway, the boy who always tried so hard to shake his past. Alois Trancy was the name that clung to that cherubic face framed with messy golden curls. Those ice blue eyes narrowing slightly with a cruel glint of mischief. There was a part of me that still held affection for those eyes and stirred just a bit to see them.

A voice was pulling on me, speaking softly, taking me gently away from sleep before the dream could claim me. Before those eyes could swallow me whole.

“Ceil? You fell asleep and missed all the zombies.”

“Hmm?”

“You’d probably be more comfortable in bed.”

“No. I like it here,” I said and burrowed against the warmth of him. A soft laugh rumbled through his chest.

“Come on. I’ll go too.”

I gave another grumble of half-hearted protest before Sebastian slid off the couch and gathered me into his arms, picking me up with a little grunt of effort.

“Is this going to be a daily routine, you carrying me off to the bedroom?” I ask lazily, my head rolling against his shoulder so I could look at his face.

“Would you like it to be?”

I didn’t disgrace myself further by offering an answer. The big hands held me solidly and placed me gently down on the mattress. My eyes were so heavy that it took nearly all of my energy to keep the good one open to see the man pull the tight black t-shirt over his head, exposing the colorful artwork stretched across the hard canvas of his chest. My heart immediately increased speed until I thought for sure he could hear the thundering I heard in my ears. My mouth was dry thinking about that skin pressing against mine. Thinking about those hands on me, coaxing me to a point I had never been to before. Was I making a sound? The look on his face was almost comical in his confusion. I must have been whining like a dog being denied his supper. Sebastian shed his jeans and crawled into bed beside me.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” I said.

“I’m not going anywhere, so you can rest now. Drop your guard, little one. I’ve got you,” he said.


	33. Hot Patootie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well…how ‘bout that?” he said with a twist of his ruby lips.

“Oh, it’s happening,” she said with such certainty that there were no sounds coming from my mouth to protest despite my sheer horror. “Now, go ahead and strip so I can see what I have to work with.”

Sebastian sat silently on the arm of the couch in Mey-Rin’s apartment watching the madness unfold. Lizzy the ever-present roommate, sat near him, glancing from his handsome profile, looking him up and down, then over to me.

“Are you two, like, going out?” she asked.

No one answered, but suddenly all three of them looked at me where I stood at the entrance to Mey-Rin’s room. I guess that was a question for me to answer.

“Yeah,” I squeaked out.

“When did that happen? You were just having sex with Mey-Rin the last time you were here.” The blond said, her voice going high with the excitement of a possible scandal.

“Oh, I’m still going to bang her like a screen door in a stiff wind,” I said.

“And that’s ok with you?” Lizzy asked Sebastian.

The tall man leaned down and spoke to her in a conspiratorial whisper. “Only if I get to watch. That sounds entertaining as hell.”

The blond shook her head sending curly pigtails flying in all directions. “I just don’t understand you people. Do you all just sleep with each other all the time? Are you gay or not?” she asked and seemed to sincerely want to understand.

“Aren’t you going out tonight, Liz?” Mey-Rin asked, providing a welcome distraction.

Her face immediately fell into a pout. “No. My friends stood me up, so I’m staying home.”

“Aw, sweetie. You should come out with us,” Mey-Rin suggested.

“You’re going to the basement, aren’t you?”

“Yep. It’s Rocky Horror tonight.”

“Oh no. I’m not wearing my underwear out in public!” the blond squealed.

“That’s alright. You don’t have to wear underwear,” I offered helpfully and Mey-Rin exploded with laughter.

“But you do!” Mey-Rin said to me once she finally pulled herself back together. She started yanking on my sweatshirt until I relented and took it off, throwing it onto her bed. “T-shirt too, let’s see that chest. You can’t get away with a _Skinny Puppy_ shirt on Halloween, baby.”

There was little point in arguing. Mey-Rin, Bard and the rest of the Plague crew had been planning a Rocky Horror Halloween night for weeks now and she had costumes prepared for all of us. I shuddered to think what was in store for me but found some small bit of comfort in knowing that Sebastian was going to be roped into this too.

Once my torso was exposed the girl began to lay hands on me like some kind of rabid witch doctor. I realized that she was rubbing cream onto my skin and that my carefully cultivated paleness was beginning to look tan and slightly sparkly.

“Careful of his tattoo, please, it’s still healing,” Sebastian said. Lizzy jumped up from the couch to come investigate.

“Ooo, that’s so pretty! A little bit creepy, but this is the prettiest tattoo I’ve ever seen!” she exclaimed.

“You don’t have any yourself, my lady?” the charming man asked her with a smile meant to melt every living creature within a 5-mile radius.

“No! Are you kidding? Tattoos hurt like heck and they’re permanent!” she said, turning to him with wide eyes.

“It didn’t hurt, did it?” Sebastian asked me, his gaze deliberately lingering on my exposed skin, now wet and golden.

“No sir, not at all. You’re very gentle,” I said. Mey-Rin was dissolving into another giggle fit as she pawed through bags of costume supplies on her bed. I swear she waited for every word to measure how dirty it could be. The girl was a professional pervert if I had ever seen one.

“You?! You’re a tattoo…person?” Lizzy asked, giving Sebastian a thorough appraisal. His tattoos were not visible, but I knew exactly what was under there. Oh boy, did I know. Mey-Rin snapped her fingers near my face to bring my attention back to her. She was applying some kind of golden cream to my face now, working with a small wedge of sponge to blend it into my skin, even going so far as brushing it onto my ears and across the back of my neck.

“Are you quite done yet?” I asked.

“Oh no, child. I am just getting started.” She handed me a beer with a headless horseman on the bottle; the brew inside smelled like pumpkin pie. I sipped the beer while she worked to fit a blond wig to my head, carefully tucking away my dark hair until I could hardly recognize the boy I saw in the mirror.

“I see where this is going,” Sebastian said with a sigh. Though, from the look in his eyes, I knew he was enjoying himself. “Shall I strip now too?” he asked Mey-Rin.

My precious girl was speechless for a moment and I had to give her round butt a little pinch to start her back up again.

“Ha…yeah. Ok. Right. Come on in here and take off your shirt and we can see how this outfit works on you. Ciel’s body paint needs to dry before I do his legs anyway.”

To her credit Lizzy hung by the door to watch the show, her face betraying her curiosity and fascination with the exhibition.

Sebastian took off his jacket and placed it next to my sweatshirt. He peeled off his t-shirt and I heard Lizzy gasp. Even Mey-Rin looked a little surprised to see the extent of the tattooed flesh before her. Me, I would never get tired of seeing him in any state of undress.

"You're completely covered!" Lizzy said. She almost backed away as though the tattoos were contagious in some way. Sebastian just smiled.

“I had an idea of what you had planned for us,” Sebastian said to Mey-Rin.

“Can you walk in heels?” Mey-Rin asked and I watched the most wicked smile light Sebastian’s face.

“I’ve actually done this before,” he admitted, reaching for his black backpack to pull out a pair of black and silver high-heeled shoes. My mouth fell open as I began to realize what was going on here.

Mey-Rin clapped her hands and bounced up and down with pure excitement. She immediately tore into a bag to produce a black corset and thrust it toward Sebastian.

“Oh shit. Is this really happening?” I heard myself mumble. Sebastian looked at me with a raised eyebrow. With a wink, he was wiggling out of his jeans to show that he already wore fishnet stockings and garters, his muscular legs all curves and lean lines.

I’ve never specifically had a thing for drag or gender-bending, but this man here had me clutching my pearls. Mey-Rin saw it, saw the slobbering idiot he made me into and she was lit up neon bright with her excitement.

I started to realize that I knew almost nothing about this man that was now being laced into a sleek black corset by my best girl. My mind worked to reconcile the tattoos, the leather jacket, the car, and the sweet gentle words he said to me in the dark, with the vision that was before me.

“Sebastian?” I asked sweetly, moving to circle him as Mey-Rin tugged the laces extra tight, cinching his slender waist even smaller.

“Yes?” His brown eyes rolled over in my direction until I was behind him and he couldn’t see me.

I nearly fell to my knees. _Dear sweet lord of all things dark and depraved, our father of blessed androgyny, _protector of skinny goth kids everywhere_  and patron saint of black lipstick blow jobs..._

He was wearing a thong.

I walked back around to see his face again when I could move and his eyes found me again.

“Ciel, you look a little flushed. Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

“Sebastian, how often do you do this sort of thing?” I asked with a hoarse voice once I could speak again.

“Only on special occasions, I’m afraid,” he said with a smirk that immediately silenced any doubts I had.

“Alright, cupcake, quit your flirting and get those pants off so I can paint your legs,” Mey-Rin said with a swat to my behind.

“You know I’m not wearing anything under these,” I protested, glancing to the utterly speechless and dazed looking figure of Lizzy still standing in the doorway.

“You really are a prude, aren’t you?” she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed her bag of supplies before pulling me into the bathroom and shutting the door. As soon as we were alone she looked at me with comically wide eyes behind her glasses and fanned herself with a free hand. “Holy fucking Mother of God is he hot! I almost came on the spot when he took his pants off. You fucking dog! You knew! Ugh. Why didn’t you tell me he was sex personified?”

“I might not survive tonight,” I said, wavering slightly on my feet. I took a long drink of the sweet spicy beer and put the empty bottle down on the sink.

“What are you talking about? I’m about to make you Cinderella of this ball,” she said with a smile. “Now, speaking of balls, take off the jeans and put on your gold undies.”

She flung the shining gold briefs in my face with a snap of the elastic. I gestured for her to spin around to give me at least the illusion of privacy before I struggled into the spandex. Another 20 minutes and I was completely tan and slightly shimmery with makeup, wearing only gold underwear and a blond wig. Mey-Rin added a little black eyeliner around my good eye and then led me back to the living room.

I realized at that moment that we had left a nearly naked Sebastian alone with the sex-starved and thoroughly confused roommate. To my surprise, the two were chatting away like old friends while Sebastian worked on his makeup, leaning into the mirror in Mey-Rin’s room like he knew what he was doing. The transformation was even more confusing and intriguing as I saw those familiar eyes darkened with kohl and those lips I had kissed painted bright red. I nearly forgot what I was wearing until I saw his eyes find me in the mirror.

“Well…how ‘bout that?” he said with a twist of his ruby lips.


	34. Doctor Frank N Furter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He licked me!” she squeaked.

The four of us squished into Mey-Rin’s car and headed downtown toward mayhem and mischief. Lizzy, now snug in a maid’s uniform with a delightfully short skirt and black stocking that were not quite long enough to hide the garters, had a bag of Halloween candy in her stuffed rabbit purse. I sat beside her in the backseat because I knew there was no way in hell that I could keep my hands off Sebastian. Having him in the front seat seemed safest. Though, at least he wasn’t driving this time.

Still, I caught my eye wandering up the blond’s thigh where the skirt had ridden up. Her skin was creamy white and looked perfectly sinful against the black stockings. She caught me looking but misinterpreted my attention to be focused on the chocolate in her lap. Apparently I was the only pervert in the car. Get you libido under control Phantomhive. It’s going to be a long night with awfully tight shorts.

“Do you want some candy?” She asked sweetly. “It’s Funtom Chocolate.”

I accepted the chocolate and used the distraction as a chance to compose myself. The sweet confection melted on my tongue as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I had thrown my sweatshirt on over on over my bare chest, but it was still awfully cold to be running around in skin-tight booty shorts and a pair of converse sneakers.

Arriving downtown was a study of pure insanity. The streets were full of costumed oddities and the other fun-seekers heading for the bars. Any fear I had about exiting the car and walking to the club disappeared once I saw some of the other crew in their underwear heading down the sidewalk like it was any normal day.

Mey-Rin parked the car got out, her gold jacket sparkling under the street light she took a second to put the little matching top hat on, secured with a pin and then waited for her roommate to get out. Around on my side, the giant came to open my door, needing to bend down to reach it and help me out. I had a moment of complete and utter brain atrophy when I saw him again, letting my eye slide up his slender form until it got to his face. I fell into those dark eyes for a minute before his voice brought me out again.

“Are you coming?”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying exactly what popped into my head. Sebastian took my hand and pulled me along down the sidewalk, through the small crowd of costumed players gathered outside of Sanctuary, many of whom I noticed turned to give us a second glance. Not that I could blame them. I was trying with every fiber of my weak and fleshy being not to look down at Sebastian’s muscular legs encased in fishnet stockings, creeping up to the garter clips and the perfectly shaped and completely bare curve of his ass. I had to bite my lip and turn away.

Inside the basement was pure, delicious chaos. Jesse still at her post at the door, though she wore a tux jacket with tails over a pair of black booty shorts and, of course, fishnet stockings. She hooked the heel of her black mary-jane on the rung of the stool and looked the four of us up and down with an open mouth.

“Well, it looks like the party can start now. Welcome, my unconventional conventionists!”

Mey-Rin tugged me out of my sweatshirt, tossing it onto the pile of coats on a chair that served as a coat check. I wondered for a moment how anyone could find their black coat in that pile, but I was already being pulled into the club, toward the bar. Sebastian separated from me with a squeeze of my hand before his fingers slid out of mine and he met up with Bard at the DJ booth. I saw Bard do a perfect spit-take when he saw Sebastian stalk up the steps to the booth in his high-heeled shoes. Bard was perfect hunched over his equipment, DJ Riff Raff with a fringe of greasy blond hair and heavily darkened eyes.

Mey-Rin slapped me hard on the ass to get my attention.

“He can’t run far in those shoes. Besides, it’s not like you could lose him, even in this crowd,” she laughed. “What do you want to drink?”

A look at Mickey’s special board made me smile. I already knew that I would be having the Doctor Frank N Furter regardless of what it was. The darkly colored drink that was handed to me did not disappoint. It was sweet and so full of booze that my eyes watered as I took a sip of the concoction.

“This should work,” I said. It was going to take a few drinks to put me at ease, particularly being mostly naked in public, but looking around at the kids in their undies had me feeling a little less self-conscious. The appreciative looks didn’t hurt either. I felt a brush of silky fabric against my side and saw that  Lizzy was standing close beside me, a drink in her hand, looking absolutely adorable in her short little maid’s uniform. She had declined to wear the huge red wig that Mey-Rin had stored with the costume and had instead curled her own blond hair and added dramatically different makeup from her usual understated, cupcake beauty.

I leaned into her as I saw her eyes begin to dart around the room taking in the spectacle. “Are you doing alright?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess. This is just really weird,” she said.

“Why do you say that?” It was a silly question, but I wondered what she would say when prompted.

“I’m not used to being around this many people in their underwear.”

“Fair enough.” I gave her a bump with my hip against hers. “You’ll just let us know if you’re uncomfortable, right? It’s supposed to be fun.”

The blond nodded and then fished out another piece of chocolate from her bunny purse. Rather than take the candy, I put my hands behind my back and opened my mouth. Lizzy giggled and unwrapped the chocolate, placing it on my tongue, but before she could pull her hand back, I closed my lips on her delicate fingers.

“Eeww, Ciel!” she squealed, snatching her hand back, laughing.

“What are you doing to my little Lizzy?” Mey-Rin asked.

“He licked me!” she squeaked.

“He’ll do that,” Mey-Rin said, consoling her roommate and stealing chocolate out of her bag while she was distracted. She turned to me with a look of faux shock and disgust. “Ciel, control yourself.”

Even as she said the words and I laughed, enjoying the exchange, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a large body pressing against mine. Any thought of any sort of appropriate behavior fled my brain. I felt the stiff fabric of his corset against my bare back and I had to close my eyes to try to block out the sudden wave of depraved thoughts that swept through me.

“You are so beautiful,” Sebastian whispered in my ear, placing a light kiss on my throat.

I couldn’t help but push myself back against him, rubbing myself against him until I felt his arms tighten around me and he leaned in to speak into my ear again.

“You had best stop that, little one, or I’ll get carried away.”

His words had me making an incoherent sound as I abandoned my drink to use both hands to reach behind me, running them along the stiff boning of the corset, down to the edges of the garter belt and finally to the bare skin of his perfectly shaped ass. My fingers dug into the flesh and felt him tense. I swayed, grinding myself against him, forgetting the club, forgetting my friends, forgetting the music, much preferring the sound of my own shuttering breath and the steady growl that’s building in Sebastian’s chest. I know it’s a warning, but it’s only driving me on, pushing me further until I can feel him start to get hard against my lower back. The thought of having that particularly juicy piece of his person tightly contained in a pair of black silk panties had me nearly delirious.

It’s painful. I need to find somewhere to get him alone. My mind snapped back to me enough to realize that I couldn't keep this up or I was liable to embarrass both of us and perhaps get us removed from the club. But where to go?

Bard was in the DJ booth making an announcement over the PA in his gruff voice. The movie was going to start soon and he was going over a few ground rules while Mey-Rin handed out little bags of props. Even Mickey had come out from behind the bar to watch as the excitement ramped up.

But I couldn't concentrate on anything but the overwhelming need to have my hands on the man who is grabbing onto my hips, holding me tightly against his body.

Then I see it. The bar is empty and there’s a door leading to what I guessed was a supply room. I bit my lip and thought for only about half a second before I spun away from Sebastian’s grasp, took his hand and pulled him along with me. He followed without complaint though I felt a slight hesitation as I slipped behind the bar and wrenched open the door. A glance behind me showed that Sebastian was scanning the room, but no one was looking anywhere but at Bard and the movie screen that’s covering the whole side wall. The door closes behind us and the sound from the movie and the excited crowd is muffled enough for me to hear the pounding of my heart and I laugh a nervous little laugh. It barely leaves my lips before Sebastian is stopping it with a kiss.

The room was lit by a single red bulb hanging bare from the ceiling, but I could see that we were in a supply room with a hallway leading to a door marked with an illuminated exit sign. Cases of beer are stacked against the wall along with a few kegs and a shelf with random cleaning supplies and disposable bar wear.

“I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my entire life,” I said, still sounding nervous from our dangerous escape into the relative privacy of this dimly lit room. My hands run down the slender, rigid length of his corset, pulling on the lacing and then down to the sharp bones of his hips, kneading the flesh there until my thumbs hook into the strap of his thong pulling on the delicate fabric.

Sebastian pushed against me, backing me up against the cases of beer. The backs of my knees hit an empty keg and I end up half sitting on top of it as Sebastian pushes himself between my legs. The panties are barely containing him and I can’t help but rub my hands against the smooth fabric, feeling the solid length of him through the thin silk. I could feel the growing wetness soaking into the fabric and it made my mouth water.

“Do you know that you whine when you want it?” Sebastian asked, whispering into my ear as he leaned into me, pressing against my groin. I was testing the durability of the gold shorts now, and began to paw at them until Sebastian helped to ease them off my hips, freeing the imprisoned Rocky. Even the brush of air against my cock felt too intense, but I only had a moment to worry about it before Sebastian dropped down to his knees and took me into his mouth.

“Oh, holy hell! That’s…mmm…”I broke off into incoherent groans as Sebastian placed a hand across my mouth. I wrapped my hands in his hair and he hummed his enjoyment against me, sending vibrations through me. I threw back my head and screwed my eyes shut tight. I wasn’t going to last long. I needed him so badly that I was pushing into him, riding his delicious mouth and he accepted my abuse, swallowing me, stroking me with his big warm tongue until I was bucking up off the keg, my legs on Sebastian’s broad shoulders. I was practically screaming against the hand that pressed hard against my mouth while the other hand steadied my frantic hips. When he knew I was close, when my thighs started to squeeze around his neck, he started to suck on me hard, taking me deep into his throat with long, steady pulls until I can’t stand it anymore and finally come.

The relief is overwhelming and instant, like a huge pressure is being lifted from my body and I’m suddenly weightless with my euphoria. Sebastian’s warm mouth kisses my quivering thighs and my stomach before he looks up at me again.

Music cuts in with the unmistakable voice of Richard O’Brien until the audience drowns out the movie with their singing and I can hear is my own labored breathing as it begins to slow down again. Church music chimes out and I know Brad and Janet are at Betty Munroe’s wedding and Brad is about to propose in the churchyard. Sebastian had something less wholesome in mind for me as he hoisted my hips up from the keg, pulling my ass against his groin and making my hands flail until I could brace myself against the shelving behind me.

Sebastian leans close to my ear, sliding up along my body, making me shiver.

“This is going to be fast,” he said. His hands traced my naked torso until they came to rest on my hips again. “And a little rough.”

My brain is trying desperately to catch up and figure out what was happening, but my orgasm had incapacitated me. Once the strong brute hoists my hips up again I had an idea that I should brace myself before he presses into me hard, making me grit my teeth. His hand closes around my mouth again and I’m free to let loose as he starts to ride me. True to his promise, he does not hold back, his thrusts are quick and hard and I can’t get enough breath to scream my muffled scream. My body is wracked between pain and pleasure with every movement of his hips sending my back arching and my chest heaving for breath. His hand is almost suffocating me when he suddenly bends down and bites into my shoulder sharply to stifle a hot moan as she shudders out his release.

His hand slides off my mouth but the rest of him stays still for a moment, breathing hard, eyes closed, lips just slightly parted showing me his perfect teeth.

“Jesus Christ,” I said.

“Are you alright?”

“Are you for real?” I tried to focus on the face that was looking at me in the red tinted darkness. “That was one of the most amazing things that’s ever happened to me.”

He laughed hoarsely and then hissed as he withdrew from me, dropping down to his knees. “Just one of the most amazing? I’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Next time, you’re in trouble,” I said, trying to make it sound like a threat. 

“Promise?” he smiled up at me.

I can’t even formulate a smart response, I’d be so thoroughly fucked that the sarcasm had gone right out of me. In the next room, I can hear that it’s time to do the Time Warp again, but I can’t move yet, let alone jump to the left. I stay where I am, half perched on a keg and a few cases of beer, one hand clinging to the shelving unit behind me, the other on Sebastian's shoulder.

“Um…Ciel,” Sebastian said softly.

“Yeah?”

“I think I have a slight problem.”

In the darkness I tried to see, struggling to sit up and then finally stand. Sebastian held up a scrap of black fabric for me to inspect. When I reached out to touch it I realized that the shredded bit of silky cloth was in actuality the pair of panties that were the only covering of his rather well-endowed lower half. Despite the look of mild horror on his face, I burst out laughing.


	35. Victoria's Real Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hold on one goddamn minute. Are you planning on stuffing your boyfriend’s junk into my panties?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating Sanctuary but I've been quite busy building my new life with my waifu. She's absolutely instrumental to my writing process and, of course, this chapter is dedicated to her.

“Psst!” I hiss reaching out toward the gold sequined arm of Columbia. “Hey!” I finally caught hold of the flailing appendage and got her attention.

“Ciel! Where have you been?” The redhead spun around with a grin on her flushed face. The crowd around us was still in the grasp of the _Time Warp_ and Mey-Rin was panting a little from the activity. “Where’s Sebastian? He missed his big entrance.”

Well, technically he didn’t, but I let the crude comment slide and started to pull the girl a little further from the dancing crowd so we could talk. “Yeah, yeah. Hey, listen. I need your help.”

“What’s the matter?” Mey-Rin asked, a bit of concern now registering on her face as she looked at me.

“I need your underwear,” I said flatly.

“I’m sorry? Did you just ask for my underwear?”

“Yes. Come on,” I said pulling her towards the ladies room. “Please take them off and give them to me.”

“Alright, hold on a second you little pervert. You’ve been acting like a hormonally crazed idiot all night, so either you tell me right now what’s going on or I’m going back to dance.” The tart had the nerve to put both hands on her hips and glare at me, hat slightly askew from her irritation.

“They’re not for me. They’re for Sebastian.”

“What?”

“What?”

“No, you first. What the fuck, Ciel?”

“There’s been a little bit of a wardrobe issue.”

“Wait a minute,” she shouted over the music. “Hold on one goddamn minute. Are you planning on stuffing your boyfriend’s junk into my panties?”

“Well, when you put it that way it just sounds weird.”

“This is all kinds of fucked up right here,” the redhead protested but allowed herself to be pushed in through the open door of the restroom. I waited outside, my hands sweating as I thought about Sebastian, still mostly naked, huddled amongst the cases of beer, praying that Mickey doesn’t need to change out a keg anytime soon.

After what seemed like an absurdly long period of time, Mey-Rin emerged from the ladies room and thrust her fist at me. I took the little ball of fabric and headed for the stairs up and out of the club at a sprint. With Mickey back serving drinks I couldn’t go back the way I came. Best to go in the back door I thought to myself with an inappropriate giggle. Really Ciel, making jokes at a sensitive time like this? For shame.

I burst out of the doors of Sanctuary like a mad monk casting off the shackles of the church and trotted down the sidewalk, rounding the corner by the sports bar entrance, nearly running into a bro and his walking fake tan of a girlfriend.

“Watch it, faggot!” he shouted after me.

“Nice costume, douchebag!” I shot back, darting down the alleyway, looking for the back exit that would lead me back to Sebastian. Upon reaching the door, however, I found it to be locked. I let out an exasperated growl and started to rattle the door handle, hoping against hope that Sebastian was on the other side and could open the door. The door cracked open and I saw a careful brown eye caked in black eyeliner looking out at me.

“Could you make a little more noise maybe? Jesus, kid,” Sebastian said snaking a long arm out into the alley to pull me inside the dark hallway. “Did you find something?”

“Here,” I said. The underwear was still balled up in my hand when I passed them to the half-naked man. A pair of hot pink panties materialized in the palm of Sebastian’s hand. He looked down for a moment as he contemplated the wad of fabric before looking back up at me. Of course, they’d be pink. Why not?

“You could, at least, try them on. I mean, what other option do you have?”

I heard the air leak out of him and his eyes closed as if asking for some sort of redemption from this predicament that he’d found himself in. I felt a moment of fear when I realized that this wasn’t the best plan after all. Maybe I could just get a cab to pull up outside and get us back to the apartment with a minimal amount of embarrassment.

But then we’d miss out on the rest of the evening.

And my keys were in Mey-Rin’s purse. There were no pockets in the gold booty shorts that happened to be the only thing I was wearing.

Fuck me running. Sebastian had to put these panties on.

“Oh, Jesus, kid. Don’t pull that puppy dog face on me. I appreciate the effort and I’m outta ideas anyway, so I guess I have to put these on.”

A large hand braced itself on my shoulder as Sebastian lifted a high-heeled shoe through the stretchy pink fabric. The end result was not entirely disappointing. Hot pink satin stretched tight across that solid ass, partially covering the tattooed skin, the stockings still tight on his legs, making me bite my lip and feel horny all over again. The fabric was resilient enough to keep all of his parts in check, and after a few quick kisses administered on tiptoe, we were back outside and free from the confines of the storage room. I took a quick glance around to see if anyone from the sports bar was around to hassle us, remembering the bro and his girlfriend that I almost bowled over moments earlier. Unfortunately, the backward baseball cap wearing individual was still outside, smoking a cigarette and staring at his phone. To his credit he took one look at Sebastian and decided to keep his mouth shut.   

Back downstairs, Brad and Janet were being shown up to the lab and Rocky was revealed and subsequently chased by the good doctor. 

Mey-Rin was watching the door and her face immediately exploded with laughter when she caught sight of us. I felt Sebastian straighten to his full height as he passed through the low doorway with an added sway to his hips as he stalked across the floor in his heels. Holy hell, who is this creature?

“I can’t believe your junk fit into those,” Mey-Rin said through thinly veiled delight.

“Well, it’s not the first time it’s been in a tight place,” Sebastian said with a devilish grin. Mey-Rin’s face was only slightly less red than mine as Bard spat out his beer to bark with laughter at the crude comment.

“Pink’s a good color on you, but they look better on her, bro.”

“Shut up, Baldroy. Don’t you have something Riff-Raff related to do? Readying your spaceship or fucking off out of my face somewhere?” Mey-Rin bristled toward the man who was lewdly regarding her.

“Ouch. I forgot how temperamental redheads can be. This one is a fire-crotch too, despite the dye job.”

I hissed at the crude confession, but Bard wasn’t quick enough to anticipate the fury that came his way when Columbia snapped into a blind rage. I bent down to retrieve the small gold top hat that fell from her head and felt Sebastian circle an arm around my waist, pulling me tight to him as I stood back up. Behind us the film was still playing, but I was fully focused on the smooth voice that purred into my ear.

“I already need to fuck you again.”

I swallowed hard, closing my eyes as a rush of pleasure flowed through me at the mere suggestion. His hips swayed against me to the rhythm of a song meant only for the two of us. For a small, fragile moment, I almost felt as though everything would be okay with this strong handsome man that seemed so taken with me. It almost felt like the sword of Damocles wasn’t hanging over my head. But then, of course, somebody had to cut that thread.


	36. Damnit Janet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have some fucking balls to come near me, you son of a bitch..."

So very hot. I felt the air press around me like a cloud of smoke, making my head swim. At first, I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing, my body reacted to the fear before my mind could catch up.

“Ciel? Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, his hand reaching for my arm, fingers circling my wrist and holding it firmly as he bent down to look at me. _In heels he’s so tall_ , I thought distantly.

I realized that I hadn’t responded, but it was too late. Two new party-goers were making their way through the crowd and coming near to where we stood. I panicked, struggling to get out of sight, but Sebastian had seen them now and kept hold of my wrist, moving in front of me slightly, his weight shifting in his heels as he steadied himself against the approaching duo.

“You have some fucking balls to come near me, you son of a bitch,” Sebastian spat at Claude. The man was dressed much like the first time I had seen him only I realized that the glasses, shirt and tie were meant to be Brad Majors combined with the stupid way that he’d combed his hair. Somehow he was here and participating in the spirit of the evening though my attention was entirely on the shorter form trailing beside him. Perfectly proper in a skirt and blouse, blond hair worn with curls, here was Janet Weiss. Only I knew those cruel blue eyes anywhere. After all, I saw them most nights when I closed my eyes…no…when I closed my eye to sleep.

“I didn’t know you would be here, Sebastian,” Claude said in his irritatingly calm and measured tone.

“Like hell you didn’t. You knew exactly what you were doing by showing up here and bringing that animal with you.”

Alois merely smiled at the recognition, glancing with obvious delight from Claude to Sebastian.

“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t call my date names.”

“And I’d appreciate if he didn’t hit me in the face with a fucking baseball bat,” Sebastian’s voice was still relatively calm but I could feel him tremble with effort. He seemed to be working hard to hold in his anger. I squeezed his hand with what I hoped was a supportive gesture. There wasn’t much else I could do. I was frozen to the spot.

“It was a moment of youthful bad judgment. Alois is an artist. Artists are prone to fits of passion. You should know that,” Claude said.

“My artistic nature doesn’t require me to strike others.”

“Oh! Please! Claude, please, you have to fight now!” Claude ignored the younger man who was clutching his arm and bouncing in his pink paten pumps.

“No one is fighting anyone,” Sebastian said. “I suggest you take that spoiled brat out of here now.”

“There you go again. I asked that you not insult my date,” Claude said. “And I really don’t appreciate how you left me with all of your appointments so you could chase a piece of ass.  Very unprofessional, Michaelis.”

Sebastian’s arm shifted so quickly that I barely had time to register that he was about to throw a punch, let alone do anything to stop him. My mind was frozen, my vision glazed over as the music and sounds from the film faded into a solid incomprehensible hum. A heavy hand pressed into my chest, pushing me backward and I would have lost my balance if Mey-Rin hadn’t put herself between me and the wall. My back collided with her chest as her arms circled around me, keeping me on my feet. I looked up and saw that it was Bard, moving quickly past me, who had shoved me aside, and he was now catching hold of Sebastian’s arm before he could land a second hit to the bespectacled man.

The club erupted into chaos. Mickey jumped from his place behind the bar and was on Claude, holding the man back away from Sebastian, yellow-shirted security workers were coming down the stairs and one of the overhead lights flickered on, temporarily blinding everyone near the entrance.

The disoriented crowd was ushered back while Sebastian and Claude were isolated as the trouble makers. I made an attempt to follow after the security guard that roughly took Sebastian’s arm and pulled him into the hallway, but Mey-Rin held me back. Bard put a hand on my shoulder and leaned down.

“What did that fucker say to him?” he asked. I shook my head, still unable to talk or think through what was happening.

The lights went back out and someone had switched on some generic house music to keep the party going. The movie continued on the screen, mouths moving but voices silent, the story forgotten as groups of people talked amongst themselves, trying to determine what had happened.

One couldn’t say it was a fight exactly. Claude never had a chance to recover from his surprise long enough to retaliate before Mickey had his arm and was pulling him away from Sebastian. And from the look of surprise on his stern features, Claude hadn’t expected the punch.

“I never did like that smug son of a bitch,” Bard grumbled next to me. “And he had to bring that mini-psycho with him. What an asshole.”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I heard myself say. I felt dizzy, but Mey-Rin still had her arms around me. The only thought going through me was an overwhelming need to find Sebastian and to be close to him. But they had taken him away from my line of vision. The colors and the sounds in the room were swimming, I couldn’t get any air and I felt myself falling.

“He’s not looking so good,” I heard Bard say.

“Shit, I think he’s passed out! I’m gonna drop him!” Mey-Rin squealed, but I couldn’t respond. I felt Bard take hold of me, hefting me up like a bride and moving me out of the club. The next thing I knew, I was sitting outside with my bare back against the brick wall of the building. My sweatshirt was thrown over my lap and Mey-Rin was sitting beside me, her arm linked with mine.

“Shit, kid, you scared me. Are you feeling better? You look like your color’s coming back,” Bard said from where he stood a few feet away, leaning against the building smoking a butt. Mey-Rin pushed a cold bottle of water into my hand and looked me over closely.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. My head was pounding, but I could talk and everything was in focus again.

“I think you had a panic attack,” Mey-Rin said. She placed a cool hand against my forehead and then leaned in to kiss my cheek when I smiled.

“Maybe.”

“They didn’t call the cops yet,” Bard said.

I felt my heart drop down into my stomach at the mention of the police. My brain was caught between two scenes as they simultaneously unfolded in my memory, completely against my will. One was the moment of Sebastian punching that bastard right in the jaw and seeing the shock right before his head rocked back and the people around him started to scatter. The other, of course, was the night that the incident happened and I was attempting to talk to the police in Montreal while the blood started to dry and turn sticky on my face.

The panic rose up in me again, but I swallowed it down with a big sip of cold water. I leaned against the soft girl beside me and willed my heartbeat to slow down.

“Bard, go back in and see what’s going on,” Mey-Rin suggested.

“No need,” a voice said with the slick of a stiletto heel on the brick sidewalk. “Everything is fine.” I looked over to see the set of strong legs inked and encased in stockings, my eyes roving up to the hip bones that I had so recently held onto like handlebars, and then eventually up to the face that I had grown so fond of seeing.

“You fucking idiot!” Bard said, pushing off the wall and stalking toward Sebastian with a testosterone swagger. “You can’t go around hitting people. Fighting like a gangbanger. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I lost my temper,” Sebastian said simply.

“Yeah, no shit. What did they say?”

“Not much. I’m out for the night and had to promise to behave if I want to come back. Mickey vouched for me, but I had to explain that it was a fight over a girl.”

“Hey…”

“Sorry, little one, but it served the purpose.”

“Let’s get outta here. This is stupid,” Bard said chucking his cigarette butt into the street and starting to tromp up the sidewalk, his Riff-Raff hunchback starting to go crooked from leaning against the building. Mey-Rin looked at me and I looked back, silent, breathing deep the crisp night air. I could feel Sebastian’s eyes on me. I could feel the smoldering energy coming off him in waves because he was still reeling from the adrenaline.

“Ciel…” Sebastian asked.

“Are you ready to go?” Mey-Rin asked.

“Ciel, are you alright?” Sebastian tried again.

“I’m fine. Let’s go.” I stood up, a little unstable, but determined to be normal in front of Sebastian even as Mey-Rin helped to steady me. The world was a blur as we walked arm and arm back to her car, Sebastian was a flaming shadow behind us on high alert, heels ringing out on the pavement like gunshots. Once I was safely in the back seat, Sebastian slid in beside me and I folded against him, completely collapsing into his arms. I think I started crying, but thankfully Mey-Rin had _Tool_ blaring from the radio so loudly that even I couldn’t hear the sounds coming from my mouth. Sebastian accepted it all, wrapping an arm around my back, holding me to him with strength and reassurance, but without making me feel like the child that I was behaving like. Just the feel of him near me, the scent of him, was enough to be comforting. That in itself was starting to scare me a little.

“Where should we go?” Mey-Rin asked, pulling the car onto the main street and heading away from the bar.

“My house,” Bard said.


	37. Everywhere I Look There's a Dead End Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re avoiding the fact that you said that I make you sick. There’s something very fucked up going on here.”

Alone in the room where I had first slept beside him, Sebastian dug through the dresser looking for a t-shirt that might fit me and cover my naked torso. I watched him for a moment, silent as he talked, telling me in detail about a horror movie that Bard wanted us to watch. It was still Halloween, he said. Sebastian had stripped off his corset and kicked off the heels and was standing there in stockings and the borrowed pink undies, the ink on his back contrasting sharply against his pale skin. My brain was numb but my hands still burned to touch him. Even through the trauma of the evening, I ached to be near this man.

I found myself pressed against the back of him, my hands on his hips, pulling him tight against me. He was so tall that my face was right in the middle of his back and I pressed my cheek into the demon there and felt the vibration of Sebastian’s voice when he spoke.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked quietly.

“You know what happened.”

“I’m sorry. This evening was a disaster. It had started out so promising, too.”

“Sebastian…I can’t do this.” I closed my eyes, squeezing both the whole and the ruined socket shut as I felt my tears start to moisten the demon’s face. The breath entered and exited Sebastian’s body with a steady and comforting rhythm while he waited for me to calm down again. His hands found mine on his hips and rested there.

“I am sorry that I lost my temper. That was stupid.”

He was silent for a few moments while I clung to him, standing still while I tried to pull myself together again. He was so calm that I couldn’t help be settle back into my numbness again.

…

“Ciel?”

Someone was shaking me awake but my dream pulled me down further. I couldn’t hear the depth of concern in the voice belonging to the hands that tried to move my unconscious form.

In the dream, it was winter, my birthday, and there was snow outside. The windows were white and gray, heavy with frost, but the fire in the hearth was lit and the room was so warm and comfortable. I was wrapped in a big wool blanket, sitting on the couch between both of my parents. I was little, small enough that my feet didn’t even reach the edge of the cushion. Everything about the moment should have been safe and comforting, but I felt the tension in the room rising as the heat rose causing an increasing sensation of dread and unease in my small body.

“Don’t cry, Ciel. Everything is alright. You’re safe with us,” my mother said, pulling the blanket around me tighter as I began to fidget. The blanket was wrapped around me so tightly that I couldn’t move and the voice of my mother was replaced by that of a stranger, shaking me roughly now and shouting in my face. The heat was so intense that I was in pain from being immersed in it. Why was my mother making me suffer? So very hot and scared. Can’t move. Panic had set in and I was suddenly not a child any more, but it was still winter and I was still being restrained and struggling, sweating from the effort. Montreal again. I know this dream and I see Jim’s wicked grimace as he pins me to the bed and looks down at my face. I know the pain is coming and I can’t do anything about it.

“Ciel, wake up. It’s just me. You’re alright,” the voice keeps talking to me softly. Not yelling, not shaking. Quiet. Gentle. “You’re having a dream. Everything is alright.”

I remembered my mother’s voice was quiet and calm like that and she would stroke my face as I began to drift off to sleep while she read to me, before she turned off the light and went to her own room. My father would come up the stairs later, after I was already supposed to be asleep and would quietly open the door and look in on me. If my eyes opened he would come in and kiss my forehead and wish me sweet dreams.

When he wasn’t possessed by a mean demeanor, Jim would sneak into bed to snuggle up against me, his cold limbs wrapped around my sleep-warmed body, his face buried against my side. Sometimes he would talk to me, but most often he would say nothing as his body warmed under the blankets and his limbs went heavy with sleep. I wanted to live in those moments when his face was slack and peaceful and I could stroke his soft blond hair.

“Come back to me, Ciel,” the gentle voice said again. But it wasn’t my mother or my father and it wasn’t Jim because there was no malice or mischief contained within the tone.

I sat up with a sudden and painful intake of air, my eyes snapping open, realizing that I was naked and somewhere unfamiliar. Hands were on me, but they were reassuring not holding me down. Once my good eye settled and focused, I could see that it was Sebastian, his dark brows knitted with concern as he looked at me. His chest was bare, his broad shoulders moving easily with breath. The rest of him was covered with the blanket, but I could feel his skin against mine and knew that he was also naked.

“I can’t do this. You can’t be here,” I heard myself say, the wave of panic barely staying below the surface.

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t keep waking up with this kind of panic. I feel sick.”

“I’m making you sick?”

“Yes,” I said without thinking, but immediately started to backpedal when I saw the look on his face and realized what I had said. “No, no. Not you. But you were holding me down.”

“No one was holding you down, Ciel. You were dreaming again. Dreaming about that blond asshole.”

“My parents,” I said shaking my head, trying to clear it.

“Your parents?” Sebastian asked.

“I don’t really remember them, but they were in the dream.” As the veil of sleep left me, the details of the dream were starting to fade away. I tried to see my mother’s face, but I couldn’t hold onto it. I thought I could still hear her voice, but I wasn’t sure.

The room was cold, but under the blankets I was warm. Sebastian generated heat like a furnace. It was still dark, but the house wasn’t quiet. I could hear voices coming from the kitchen, traveling up the stairs and against the closed door of the bedroom. The words weren’t clear enough to make out, but I could tell that it was Bard and Mey-Rin arguing with each other and a third, more quiet voice chiming in once in a while when there was a pause in the bickering.

“Someone else is here,” I said.

“You’re avoiding the fact that you said that I make you sick. There’s something very fucked up going on here.”

“Did anyone ever find Lizzy? I don’t remember what happened.” I tried to think back but I couldn’t remember anything after we decided to leave the club. We must have left her there.

Sebastian got up out of the bed and sat on the edge for a moment, breath entering and leaving his body slowly and cumulating with a sigh. He stood, his naked body stretching briefly before pulling on a pair of jeans from the floor. Without saying another word he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach and I fought back a wave of nausea. I was supremely disgusted with myself. There’s a special place in hell for people that hurt someone who has been nothing but good and sweet. I had been a righteous asshole and nothing but a bundle of trouble and yet I was absolutely livid with Sebastian. By the time I made my way downstairs, dressed again in the horrid gold shorts and my hoodie, the waves of sickness and distress were completely gone and had been replaced with a white hot anger. My anger was a familiar friend to me. It was a demon on my shoulder that reassured me, told me what I should do and congratulated me on making abrupt and impulsive decisions. My face set into a practiced mask as I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Bard was fixing breakfast by way of tossing a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter on the table while he waited impatiently for the coffee to finish brewing. Mey-Rin leaned against the counter talking, to my silent surprise, to Finny, who smiled amicably to everyone as though he were over-joyed to be included. Whatever drugs that kid was taking, I wanted some.

What I was feeling was not gladness in any stretch of the imagination. Sebastian was missing which was just as well considering what I had just said to him. But I was mad at him for storming out, right?

 _Right. Stick with that, kid,_ the demon said. _Now get your ass out of here before he comes back._

“Hey, Ciel!” Finny lit up even more when he saw me and even waved his little paw in greeting.

“Hey,” I nodded my head which I realized had a bit of a steady rolling ache in it that traveled down to my neck and shoulders. I felt like I’d really been through a rough night but without any fun memories to savor.

There was the supply room…

 _Nope, forget it, kid,_ the demon admonished. _There’s no time to get your dick involved. He never makes good decisions._

A fair enough argument.

“How are you feeling?” Mey-Rin asked, looking my sorry self over.

“Fine,” I said dismissing her concern.

“Finny found Lizzy. We…um…forgot her at the club,” Mey-Rin said.

“I can’t believe you forgot your fucking roommate.” Bard was laughing his barking laugh. “I’m glad she’s okay and all, but this is just classic Mey. All beauty and no brains.”

Mey-Rin aimed an elbow into his stomach and then continued to lean moodily against the counter. “Anyway, she’s fine. Finny took her home.” She had the grace to look uncomfortable about the situation, but I couldn’t quite make myself care.

I turned toward Bard who was still laughing. “Bard, can you give me a ride into town?”

Before he could answer, Sebastian came into the kitchen from the bathroom. Bard threw a look his way and then put up his hands, knowing better than to get involved.

“I’ll bring you home,” Sebastian said.

 _Throw a fit. Tell him to go to hell. Demand that Bard take you. Steal his car. Call a cab._ My demon was full of ideas, but I didn’t seem to agree to any of them.

“Fine,” I said. “I’d like to go now. I’m not feeling well.”

Sebastian said nothing else but threw on a hoodie that was hanging by the door, which judging by the aroma of pizza and cigarettes coming off of it, belonged to Bard. The action reminded me that all of his clothing was at my apartment. Sebastian taking me home meant that we were both going home. I wasn’t getting away from him which meant I would have to confront him.

Stupid demon, what have you gotten me into this time?

We left the house without another word to anyone, though Mey-Rin caught my eye in a way that let me know I should expect to explain myself thoroughly via text.

My apartment was cold and dark and smelled stale when I opened the door. I threw myself onto the couch, exhausted but uncomfortable. I jumped up again and went into the bathroom to peel myself out of the stuck-on gold shorts. Off came the sweatshirt and the borrowed t-shirt and I got into the shower to stand under the water with my eyes closed. The water was hot enough to ease some of the tension in my aching shoulders, but not enough to make me feel any better. Too quickly the water began to cool, or my skin just got used to it and I turned off the tap and still stood with my eyes shut. The cold air swept over my wet skin and I shivered, still refusing to move, so numb from the pain I felt through to the base of my soul.

A fluffy towel wrapped around my shoulders and I was lifted from the tub and held against Sebastian’s solid chest. I let myself fall against him, submitting completely to his strength as he maneuvered me and set me down onto the bed. The towel was removed and replaced with a blanket, but the arms still remained loosely around me, not holding me but not leaving me alone either. After several minutes his voice came to me, fighting through the numbness and lighting up the appropriate centers of recognition in my brain.

“Do you want to talk about this?” When I didn’t respond he continued to speak, quietly and without any apparent emotion. “You don’t have to talk to me but I’m not going to leave. For some reason I’ve developed an attachment to your skinny ass and I care about what happens to you. Despite all of the trouble that you’ve gotten me into, I think you’re just what I need.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t open my eyes, but just listened to his voice and tried to find if there was sincerity there. But had Sebastian ever been anything but sincere with me?

“I mean that I’m falling for you, kid. And harder than I thought.”

“Falling for me?”

“Yes.”

“Like…” I let my voice trail off as my brain tried to work through his words.

“I love you,” he said.

“Oh. I love you, too.” The words came out before I was aware that they had left my mouth.

“Do you?”

The question made my heart ache in my chest so acutely that I couldn’t breathe.

“Sebastian, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

I opened my eyes to see his face. He sat beside me, one arm across my body, leaning close, but not actually touching. There was no expression on his fine features, no indication to what he was thinking as he looked at me; just his brown eyes, dark and deep, moving over my face as though he was casually reading through a book. Why did I feel like he had my number? My demon told me that it was time to run before I got myself into this any deeper. I could leave again, move further south and settle somewhere else where I wouldn’t be known.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“You do. Why are you sorry? Don’t tell me that it’s just because you’re Canadian.”

“None of this is fair to you,” I said ignoring the comment.

“Why?”

“Stop asking that.”

“Answer my question and I’ll stop asking.”

I felt a wave of anger wash through me and the demon ignited with excitement. _See, he’s an asshole. He’s just playing with you and you’re an idiot for letting it get this far. How could you let someone like him get so close?_

But it was wrong and I knew Sebastian was being sincere in his words. Had he said that he loved me?

“I’m broken. Something inside me is fundamentally damaged and I shouldn’t have led you to believe anything any different.”

“Bullshit,” he said. There was no malice in the word, only a simple statement.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not broken. You’re just human.”

“And you’re not?” I asked with confusion, my anger starting to wane against the constant calmness that he presented to me.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m not capable of functioning in a relationship,” I said trying again to explain myself.

“You seem like you’re doing alright so far,” he said.

“What?”

The serene face broke into a smile as he looked at me. Was he joking? Was this somehow funny to him? I understood that we had different ideas of humor, but this was in poor taste. How could he think that any of this was alright so far?

“Ciel, there’s no right way to be in a relationship. There’s no capacity for perfection in any two people. It doesn’t exist.”

“What?”

“For a smartass you can be kinda thick sometimes. Look, if you have feelings for me and accept the fact that I have feelings for you and you enjoy what we’ve been doing, then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling my mind slide completely blank under his steady eyes.

“But you do.”

“Jim is going to…”

“He’s not going to do anything,” Sebastian cut me off.

“But he already has. He won’t leave me alone.”

“He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“But he’s already hurt you,” I said. I remembered the bruise that colored Sebastian’s otherwise perfect face.

Sebastian broke into a quiet, but very nearly wicked laugh. “That? That was nothing. He might be crazy, but I’ve seen crazier. Hell, I’ve apprenticed under insanity himself and come out on the other side with a fucking smile. That brat can’t hurt me and he won’t hurt you.”

Somehow I fell asleep, still naked, but clean and in my own bed with Sebastian beside me.


	38. Breaking the Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yesss…come to me my precious. I shall make good use of you.”

I woke up some unknown amount of time later, finally feeling like I had gotten some rest after Halloween night. I think it’s late afternoon by the way the light lazily falls through the gap in the curtains and illuminated the dust swirling in the air as the heater kicks on with a series of clicks and bangs.

Concept: I’m warm and safe in a nest of blankets, there are smells of cooking coming from the kitchen and the sounds of a horror film drifting into the bedroom. The door was left open a crack and the light from the living room crept in.

I could see the movement of someone on the couch and suddenly I wanted to be there. I needed to be close to Sebastian. He sat on the sofa, a sketch pad across his knees, his head down as he as he focused on his work. Black t-shirt with the ghoulish black and white photo of the stringy-haired girl that accompanied the title “Night of the Living Dead” and worn black jeans adorned his relaxed body, bare feet flexed on the carpet. A bottle of beer was open and sweating on the end table. He turned and brown eyes found my face as I looked at him. They were dark at first, but almost look red for just a second as they drank me in. What must I look like? I’ve been asleep and I’m probably still wearing some streaked makeup. I haven’t eaten or had more than a few sips of water. What was he seeing? That look was pure predator for that one second before the eyes soften and a smile changes his whole face.

On the screen, a man is being torn apart by the hands and teeth of a dozen zombies and on the couch I’m settling in under Sebastian’s arm, feeling that sleepy warmth again. The blood and destruction were a strange yet comforting accompaniment to the peace of the afternoon. Dinner is a spicy chili that had been simmering on the stove while I slept, and a bag of salty tortilla chips for dipping. We ate sitting on the floor, watching an entire season of the Walking Dead, drinking cold beer and talking, not about the previous 24 hours. By the time Sunday night rolled around, I felt like myself again, though the weight of adulthood came crashing down when I had to think about work and earning enough money to pay the rent for the month. The mention of money made Sebastian exhale with exasperation.

“I’m running out of funds pretty quickly. I’ve lost a lot of shop time.”

“Can you hook up with a different shop? Surely anyone would be glad to have an artist of your caliber.”

“It’s not so simple, unfortunately. I can’t work anywhere at the moment.”

  
“Why not?” I asked, puzzled. Sebastian ran a hand through his dark hair and looked at me.

“Claude has all of my gear at the shop. He also has my license. I can’t tattoo without it even if I could get new gear.”

“Oh shit. He’s probably not going to be cool about giving it back, is he?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Can you get another copy?”

“I’d have to go to New York.”

I sighed, feeling his frustration.

“I didn’t really want to go back. The city is not a good place for me,” Sebastian said, his voice turning colder the longer we talked.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He turned to meet my eyes and held them for a long moment. “I suppose you realize I’ve had some trouble in the past.”

“Yeah,” I said weakly, not sure if I should elaborate or say what I thought he was talking about.

“Brooklyn is always drugs for me. There will never be any other association. I spent all of my time trying to get high and trying to not get caught. Eventually, it would have been either my boss or the cops. I’m just glad it was the cops so I can still be here in one piece today.”

“Me too,” I said taking a moment for the words to take meaning. “What happened?” I finally asked.

“I was a package kid, running product from the warehouse to different distribution points, but I got the bright idea to start skimming rock and I started to get real foolish. I finally got caught with a full backpack and I went to jail.”

“Damn.”

“I’m never going back. Not if I can help it.”

“Are you…do you ever…” I tried to ask but the words wouldn’t come out. I figured that I would know if Sebastian was using drugs, but I suddenly wasn’t so sure. It occurred to me how little I did know about the man who was currently sharing my apartment.

“Get high? No. I’ve been clean since I was arrested. Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s important for you to know if you want to know me. It’s something that happened and that has shaped who I am now.” He watched me for a while and I wondered my face was doing and what he was seeing. “It’s why I don’t want to go back to Brooklyn.”

“We’ll just have to get your stuff back from Claude then.”

…

Monday, 10:30 am. Sebastian and I walked through the alleyway taking us to the back entrance of the tattoo shop. The sunlight is bright, but it’s a frosty morning and my breath escapes my lips in little puffs of steam. Sebastian clutches a cup of coffee and walks fast, making me jog a little to keep up with him. There are no cars in the little parking lot. Even the flower van is gone. Maybe there’s a funeral or a wedding to set up for.

It’s Monday. Probably a funeral.

“You’re sure Claude won’t be here?” I ask. My breath feels ragged in my chest and I work to move my heavy-booted feet. This is probably why burglars wear sneakers. Better equipped for sneaking.

“He’s not much of morning person,” Sebastian said. He took one last pull from his paper coffee cup and then pitched it into the dumpster behind the florist. Leaving DNA evidence.

“10:30 is hardly morning. I’m usually at work by 7.”

“Ugh. What even is that? How do you people live like that?”

“Us people? Office dwellers are not second class citizens. I would flip you off but my carpal tunnel won’t let me.”

“I’m glad you quit,” he said. He shot me a quick smile before digging out his keys to get into the building. The door opened and I sighed in relief.

“Don’t get too excited. This door is used by the other three businesses. We still have to get into the shop.”

I remembered that Claude’s shop was on the second floor and that several other doors lined the corridor beyond his. My stomach churned as we made our way up the stairs. Everything seemed very quiet. We could have heard a tattoo machine going by now if anyone was working. I suppose that didn’t mean that Claude wasn’t lurking in the shop like some kind of gargoyle.

Sebastian stopped at the door and tried his key. Predictably it wouldn’t fit the lock.

“Now what?” I whispered, leaning against him slightly, standing on my toes to peer through the skinny window. The shop looked dark and empty. Sebastian smirked and selected another key from his key ring. Rather than sliding it into the lock, he tapped it with the heel of his hand and I heard the lock click. He turned the knob slightly and the door popped open.

“You’re a little scary, you know that?”

“Am I?” He kissed my check and then ducked inside, leaving me in the hallway. I took a guilty look down the stairs and then across the hallway, and then went inside, closing the door softly behind me.

Once we were inside I could see that no one was there and I was slightly relieved. Everything looked much the same as it had when I had been there to be tattooed; the demonic mural at the entrance, a reception desk, seating for clients, then the two work areas, everything tidy and clean. Everything was the same as the afternoon that Sebastian invited me to be tattooed. The afternoon that he had kissed me. And we had gone back to his car…and…ugh. Not now, Ciel. Keep it in your pants. You’re here on an important mission.

I took off my backpack and unzipped it, walking over to where Sebastian stood to look through a large red Mac tool box that took off half a wall between the two workstations. I held out the bag in his direction.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Um. Your stuff?” I guessed. I had no idea what we were actually here to get, but I felt an urgency and I wanted to help.

“We’re not casing the joint,” he said.

“What?”

“Shut up,” he said with a smile. “Gimme that.” He snatched the bag and started tossing white packets of what I thought were probably needles or some other disposable part. “Shit. I bought this whole box and it’s nearly gone. Oh well. I won’t take them all, I’m not that much of an asshole. I’m taking all the good black ink, though…”he darted off to the cabinets above the sink.

“Yesss…come to me my precious. I shall make good use of you.” He tossed a handful of small bottles into my bag and then thrust it back at me. “Now the tricky part. Where the hell did he put my machine?”

Together we started opening every drawer, cabinet, and bin that we could find. We actually are casing the joint I realized. Sebastian finally made his way behind the desk and sat heavily in the chair. “That mother fucker.”

“What?”

“He put a safe back here.”

“What?” I went around to the desk to see the black box that Sebastian rested his boot on. It was about a foot square with a silver dial on the front; no keyhole for that nifty lock trick to work again.

“You question things constantly. Do you realize that?”

“What?”

“Oh my god. Shut your handsome face.”

“What are you going to do? It’s probably in there,” I said ignoring his cheeky insults.

“Oh, it’s definitely in there.” He pushed the safe with his foot and it moved. He let out a sardonic laugh. “Unfortunately for King Dickweed, he didn’t bolt the safe down.” Sebastian got up for the chair and squatted down, bracing himself to lift. To my amazement, he picked up the safe and walked out from behind the desk.

“Be a sweetheart and get the door.”

I ran to open the door and Sebastian walked the safe right down the stairs and out the back door. He set it down on the pavement with a grunt. “Wait here.” He ran back upstairs and was gone for about a minute before reappearing at the door.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Why I locked up,” he said with a smile. Somehow I didn’t quite believe that was all of it.

We managed to get the safe to the mustang without any trouble. I couldn’t help but watch the muscles of his back and arms as he bent to set the weight down in the back seat.

“Now what?” I asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Let’s go see what tools Bard has.”

We pulled away from the curb and Sebastian turned up the radio, letting the galloping guitar riffs fill the vehicle, almost loud enough to drown out the growling engine. _Judas Priest_ , I realized. “Breaking the Law.” The universe has a sense of humor.


	39. Holding on to Love in a Cold World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the hell is wrong with you?” Bard paused in mid-rant to light his cigarette. “You can’t stay out of trouble for five fucking minutes, can you?”

Bard’s monster truck was parked half up on the grass, hood up, his skinny frame hung over the engine so the whole neighborhood could see his hairy ass crack. He didn’t stretch up from his bent position until I cut the engine and my boots hit the driveway though I’m sure he could hear the mustang tearing up the road from blocks away.

“What ya got there?” Bard asked as I hefted the safe out of the mustang’s rather petite trunk. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear sticking it between his teeth as he came over to see for himself.

“Did the monster finally die?” I asked.

“Sebastian, is that a fucking safe?” Bard hollered, ignoring my question.

“Yell a little louder. Your neighbors aren’t sure if they should call the cops yet.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bard paused in mid-rant to light his cigarette. “You can’t stay out of trouble for five fucking minutes, can you?”

He followed on my heels as I went into his garage and threw the heavy box down on the tool bench.

“Where’s the drill?” I asked. I looked around at the disaster that Bard considered a working garage. Ciel had quietly come into the oil-stained debris pile and Bard slammed his fist down on the button that sent the rolling door down with a clattering racket. The room quickly filled with cigarette smoke, hanging low under the buzzing fluorescent lights.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bard exhaled like an angry chimney and then began crashing through the shelves and storage bins that lined three of the four garage walls. He finally pulled out a busted looking tool and walked it towards the safe with what I can only describe as malicious intent. I made a move to free the power tool from his hands but was slapped away.

“You’re no good at the delicate shit,” Bard said, holding his cigarette between his teeth like a battle-crazed general prepped for another fight. With zero caution, he jammed a new bit into the drill and pumped the trigger a few times to lock it into place.

“No, it’s not like I work with delicate machinery or do work that requires finesse,” I hammered back at him. I caught Ciel watching the two of us like he was observing a tennis match, insults and curses snapped back and forth over an invisible net. Poor kid.

“Yeah, and I expect some free work on my sleeve for aiding and abetting you today.”

“Only if I get my shit back. Otherwise, I’ll have to use a sewing needle and India ink.”

“Heh. Your master would shit a brick, wouldn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I admitted laughing at the idea of the Undertaker catching me doing anything but the professional tattooing he had taught me.

With a load of sparks and flying metal fragments, the drill made short work of the lock and the safe sprung open. Bard stepped back, self-satisfied and masculine as hell with the drill still clenched in his fist and the cigarette ground between his teeth.

As expected, the small leather case with my tattoo machines was inside. These were the first two machines the Undertaker had given me, both custom built, one shaped like a casket with a skeleton inside, a direct tie to the funerary-themed shop where I got my start. The other was a comment by my old master on my demonic nature and my natural fondness of occult objects. The gunmetal machine was engraved with a pentagram and circled with demonic script. It was my favorite. I typically carried it everywhere I went. It was the machine I had tattooed Ciel with when he came to Claude’s shop. I felt a wave of relief knowing they were in my possession again. Looking back into the metal box, I saw two envelopes, one I recognized as mine which was stamped with the NYC health department logo proving that I was legal to tattoo, but the second one was fat and it could only be full of one thing.

“Claude really wasn’t expecting me to get into this safe,” I said feeling a sardonic grin settle across my face. “My license and last exam grade, perfect of course. And an envelope full of cash. Ouch. Bad luck, Claude.”

“You’re not going to keep it, are you?” Ciel asked. He had been so quiet this entire time that I had honestly almost forgotten he was there. The look on his face was one of concern. I had to remember he wasn’t used to my standard level of bullshit. Just busting into the shop seemed to be really stressful on him, though it had actually been the kid’s idea. I don’t know if he was used to the level of follow-through I was prepared to give. He’ll learn.

“How much?” Bard asked, cocking an eyebrow as I thumbed through the bills.

“Fifty-five hundred.” I fanned the stack.

“Sweet. I need parts for the truck.”

Ciel’s wide-eyed stare moved from one of us to the other as he began to reassess his life choices. I watched the bit of skin between his eyes furrow and I pressed it with my thumb, just a soft but steady pressure to get him to stop scowling at me. His body relaxed and he looked up at me.

“It’s going back, Ciel. Don’t worry. I’m an asshole but I’m not a thief.”

“Not anymore,” Bard chimed in.

“Not ever again,” I concluded.

…

My phone was going off so much I considered changing my number or at least smashing it against the kitchen wall. Claude noticed his safe was missing immediately. No doubt he walked his stiff corpse into the shop and went behind the desk to count his money. The post-it note "IOU" I stuck to the floor where the safe had been was more than enough to tell him who had been in the shop and fucked with his shit. While he didn’t seem to find the humor in the situation, at least he didn’t report the crime. Of course, I was only taking what was mine, which I would be happy to explain to anyone who asked. Claude, however, was a tricky bastard and as I predicted, only retaliated by leaving a series of stern messages on my voicemail.

I had no intention of keeping the cash. It actually never even crossed my mind. Unfortunately for Ciel, Bard and I were used to being in 100 percent bullshit mode around each other. It was easy for me to forget that the kid didn’t entirely know or probably trust me yet. I was doing a great job at this.

It’s not as though I ever put much effort in before now. I’m attractive and gay. Obviously, attention and affection were cheap enough, but I equally had no interest in pursuing them.

Ciel was different. I knew immediately that I had feelings for him as soon as he opened his mouth and proved there was something of substance behind his handsome features. His appeal was somewhere in the way that his face betrayed his thoughts or in the way that his single beautiful blue eye showed off how intelligent and insightful he really was. He was something more than the external package would have you believe.

Though, the body was almost overwhelmingly appealing too.

_Just don’t alienate him, you big idiot._

My phone buzzed in my pocket again and I decided to answer on a whim.

“Yeah?”

There was a short pause where Claude worked through his surprise at my answer. “Are you done being immature?” Claude asked, his voice clipped and abrupt. I’m sure he was preparing to leave another message when I interrupted him.

“Never.” No need to make this easy for him.

“I didn’t suspect as much. I’m sure you realize that I could have taken legal action against you for all that you’ve done.”

I let the statement sit in the air for a moment. Nothing came from Claude’s end of the phone except the overwhelming sense of indignant bespectacled rage.

“Claude?”

“What?” The word was sharp and dry like a stale cracker hitting the kitchen floor.

“How long have you known me?” I asked. My anger and irritation subsided for a moment as I settled into the phone conversation, connecting myself to the familiar voice on the other side.

 “I don’t know. Ten years if you count the conventions we both attended. Perhaps three if you only consider our working relationship.”

I pictured Claude with the other tattooers. Awkward, slightly out of his comfort zone because unless he had a machine in his hand. He avoided the parties and the drinking that happened during the after-hours of the conventions, and he gained a reputation for being a stuck up prick because of it. It was funny how a counter culture like the tattoo world still fostered a certain threshold for admittance. Being gay in an industry that fostered a macho and outdated attitude was difficult. It must have been doubly so for someone as soft-spoken as Claude.

Of course, none of that excused his behavior or made me any less pissed. He was and always would be a complete asshat of a human being, but I didn’t suspect he knew that he was being a dickhead much of the time.

“You punched me in the face and then broke into my shop and stole…well, you basically took whatever you wanted, including my personal safe. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known you or worked with you. Your behavior is immature and you have proven yourself to be a social deviant, regardless of your previous work ethic or reputation.”

“What’s going on with you? Frankly, I’m worried.” Maybe my tone was sarcastic, but my curiosity was sincere. I thought about someone like Claude finding someone like Alois appealing and had to suppress a full body shudder. The obnoxious personality and shitty attitude of that brat was so repulsive to me, I couldn’t imagine anyone voluntarily being near him. I could excuse Ciel for any bad decisions of youth because I was guilty of plenty myself. Claude didn’t need anyone. He was an island. One of those weird ones with the heads on it.

But here he was having some teenage hookup in his van and dressing up for Rocky Horror on Halloween. Going out in public and having fun like a normal person. It was decidedly strange and certainly out of character for him. What did it mean? Do people usually change so dramatically from their typical patterns for a bit of ass? Was this living up to some kind of gay stereotype? Was Claude giving the rest of us a bad name by acting like a total girl?

The answer was most assuredly yes.

I’d considered the possibility that both of us had displayed strange behavior lately, and I knew for a fact that Ciel had influenced my decisions to do what I had done. The biggest change I had made was letting that lovely creature know me and it was something I had done willingly and almost immediately. In my opinion, that was how it should be. My relationship experience was limited to what I could count on two hands. Unusual among the men I had encountered, I was selective about what I brushed my dick up against.

Ciel came out from his bedroom and looked at me quizzically. I held the phone to my ear and leaned back against the kitchen counter giving Ciel a little smile to know all was well. He blinked his blue eye at me, not returning the smile. He let his hair fall down over his ruined eye, something I noticed he did almost all of the time when he wasn’t wearing the eye patch.  

I waited for Claude to answer my question and realized he probably wouldn’t.     

“Listen. I’ll bring the cash back to the shop and I’ll pay for the safe. I just wanted my stuff back and I knew you’d be a dick about it,” I said finally.

The voice on the other end of the phone was still quiet.

“Claude?” I could hear a sigh on the other end of the phone and knew that the man was still there. I almost sensed him pushing his glasses up on his beak as he calculated the information I had just laid out.

“You somehow manage to have everything, don’t you?” he said after a long pause.

“Hm?”

“You have the talent, the rebel attitude, the attractive features that make everyone forgive you for behaving like a buffoon. I can’t stand you.” The last was said with such venom that my stomach went cold.

“Alright. Thanks for calling.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and pushed the button to end the call, staring at the small screen that showed a fourteen-minute conversation had taken place.

“What was that about?” Ciel asked.

“Claude.”

“And?” Ciel made an effort to be casual with the question, but I could sense the nervousness in him.

“He’s still a giant dickhead.”

Ciel nodded.


End file.
